Normal Conversation

Standard

You said
you could never
envision that type of
love
in general,
yet you
thrust
that poem
in my face
and called it
normal conversation.

you said you could
never see that sort of
life,
(you said)
you never saw that sort of thing
(indelicate as it was)
yet you mentioned
that movie
and smeared it on my brain
in bright colors,
you said
it was
the epitome of
love stories,
and oh how grand (!),

you tossed it in-between
your overgrown
oft repeated
words:

but that was not my place
by the window
or in the morning
when my toes should have been
freezing,

that was not my place
in the morning corridor
where I awaited your
exaused
hello,

that was not my place
in the morning corridor
waiting for the smell,
for the jangle of keys
that told me
you had arrived.

Copyright 2014 Golden Star Poetry

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