For Lack of Better Words

Under the evening canopy of loneliness
On the barefoot concrete,
Rough and calloused from the day's trudge
And punctuated by the recent rain,
A part of me walks
Circularly, desperatised by a clear sky.
Each eye, each wink, makes each step
A bachelor party, a remembrance
Of all the things - the person - I can't have.
We wasted hours on the trampoline
In the front yard, talking,
And inside watching movies
On the couch, my arm trying
To be around you, though
I wouldn't let it because
Of your dad at the other end
Of the couch and because
I wasn't sure. A tail
Of cloud entertains the moon,
Throwing its orgasm across
The poorly-lit parking lot
Outside the church,
And I pass, infinitum ad nauseam,
My car, a quiet tear of a lonely night
Waiting for me
While I jump a puddle
Baptized by the moon's candor.
I knew what I had to do,
Knew it like the wind
That flayed the autumn trees
That almost seemed to say it.
Parts of us still lingered
On the trampoline, the arm
That still wanted one more chance.
We knew those parts,
Knew them like the wind
That echoed with the very voice of God,
That hushed my flailing prayers.
I crossed to my car under
The slowing breath of the moon.
I had to tell you,
And then we would be friends, again.
We would be just friends.

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