Black Sheep

It was such a long time ago when you said

there is a method to my madness, and

cliches sounded sweet coming from your lips,

and poetry sounded epic

from your strong hands.

It was such a short time ago when you visited

me from your European swirl, and

begged me to stay

down on my knees.

I believed in poetry

like a Catholic believes in Christ.

I believed in you

like a woman in love.

I lost some hope

when you became the black sheep

inside yourself. You said,

 

I have a spot next to me, just for you.

 

You said,

 

You have the art in you.

 

I said,

 

Silence waits for us.

 

We put the phones down and

destroyed our sanity.

And it was not such a long time ago

that you loved me

and left me

for all the reasons you first loved me.

 

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