Carol Anne

Carol Anne, discourse made you clean:

We’d talk all night but never really say a thing.

 

I’m just something mistaken, really:

For a crush, a heady drink,

Or worse yet, a fuck—

You could give, but never gave.

 

Instead, I was given too much time to think:

 

The steps never taken

The beds never slept in

The hours never dreamed of

 

Or

 

Writing of:

 

Of bending and breaking

Of Irish pubs forgotten

Of cold porches with cold chairs to sit in.

 

Carol Anne:

 

I won’t miss your bite.

I won’t wake up to you, and

I won’t waste too much more of my precious (drunken-) ether of time.

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