Art Gephyr

It Was You

In my present funk
Not feeling as relieved
As I should to be finally home,
Right before I pull
The chord on the bedside lamp
I realize
I miss seeing you

How did that even happen,
When on the first evening
I thought you touched too much
Talked too much
Listened too little
And remembered nothing?

Despite yourself
Time progressed, and
Was the first Thursday
Without you
Since we met
The first Thursday
Since I kindly told you
With regret
This will not do
The first Thursday
I skipped my usual
Stop for a pint
At our shoe-boxed sized pub

Would I have seen
The black curls on the back
Of your head
Had I walked through the door?
Would you have turned
Laughingly smiled
Exclaimed my full name
Embraced me
When I touched your shoulder?
Or would you have been elsewhere
To give me space
So as not to hurt me,
Or to give you space
So as not to feel constrained
Obligated by me?
And if you were there
Sitting, drinking, chain smoking
Would you have thought
My absence a statement
Or taken no note at all?

As you knew my routine,
I had hoped to see you
At the house party down the street.
Under the night theme of heavy
I stared at a somber
Skeletal face in a mural
A woman painted on the wall
Blood roses pinned in her hair.
Strange how disappointment
Displaces itself
To infect the room
The people within it
The band playing
As I held my tongue
While talking to friends
Sitting on the bench
Leaning my head back
Periodically closing my eyes to fight
Stretching my time there
It was you
I waited for
It was you
I missed seeing