i often wonder if you ever understood the way our grace phased
if the words upon my face left you in daze upon days
how little the world meant and how bent out of shape you left
maybe the grace was just a taste that left a fuzz for your buzz
yet i skip, think back and ahead of things that meant nothing to you
the sky, the utter death and screams of despair you left there
thoughtless of you to leave, the heave at your knees
i’m not foolish or stupid, not cupid or abusive
your lucid dreams meant nothing while mine were forever
i think about the weather and if it was supposed to be never
if maybe we moved east while we were west
that possibly we were supposed to go north while dancing in south
i still think about your mouth and my lips and the way we kissed
a drunken love would always miss
“what’s in your glass,” i said
the things in my head while we rolled in your bed
generally mine, my mind, the fan, the pace and your face
your thoughts always opaque while mine sat transparent
like we sat at the tavern and talked about our future
sometime last august, right before autumn and prior to the ending where you just left me hanging