if i do see you tomorrow,

let me down the rest of the way gently.

i'll be tame enough to ask

if you'll be considerate.

if it's the last time,

don't jump, don't rush to fill it with

your stale expectations.

they never were more about me

than the gleam in your eye,

since faded, anyhow

be gentle.

if it helps,

be the bag of bones,

bearded stranger in the baseball cap.

i'll keep searching for your face,

gaze i've known better than to crave.

i've allowed myself to smile now, anyway

consider me.

overgrown for you by my design,

birthday cards in wastebasket,

perfume poured down kitchen drain,

face scrubbed, hair cropped,

smiling means you look away.

you must have

somewhere secure, someone my age,

a life to manicure.

gently, you may ask again why i called,

and in turn, i won't explain

picket fences are best used for dragging sticks.