Steak

Standard

that’s not
how I’d like to remember you
your laugh.

that’s not
how I see bloomability
or the sound of your hard nails
flexing and stretching
or the sound
of your voice

how personally
I took everything
back then
the way back when
how casually
you talked of love
like a steak
prone to being prodded
only it wasn’t steak
it was your own
useless heart.

I believe
you two shared a spark
talking Sparta in the park
Victor Hugo in the dark
and the rest of the words
pregnant with useless thoughts.

the way
you walked, so
elegantly kept
you said
the friends only
lasted six months,
two weeks
the friends only shuffled
up to you
here, there
gone again
muddled cloudy
a somewhat clear
encounter.

why should I feel
so sad
when I remembered
the inconsistancy
of my friend
and her lover
so alike
who walked
too sure of themselves
soon to destroy
one another.

how casually
you talked of things
you taught me new words
but ones I never used

and he said
oh he dreamt
and that girl
prodding her own useless heart–

he said he never loved me
and I thought
perhaps I might
never see the same spark of light
inside him
as he had come too close
to her mind
for anyone else to see.

Copyright 2014 Golden Star Poetry

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