Apparently, I am at a loss for titles for this poem and the last one. Oh, well.
What did we talk about all those years ago
long hours on the phone
or the digital backrooms of IRC?
My break-up, your former wife life
your work, my studies,
the stealthy turning of friendship
into something more
as your phone bill reached for the sky.
We talked our fingers off,
the unexpected tenderness of long distance
Will you marry me? patiently asked.
Yes left in the air until we met
until our eyes burned into each other
we knew we knew.
What now do we know
near fifteen years in?
How to disappoint
the fairy tales of happily ever after
those one true loves
the world laid out as it is always done.
© 2015 by Robin A. Sams