If you had come, I would have taken you.
If you had asked, I could have replied.
But you did not move, and you did not speak.

What little there is to remember
I have cut from the formless void and kept,
like news-clippings,
in a quiet place near my heart.
I know that it is not all that we have left,
but it is something I will keep for awhile
to hold for lack of you.

This weed, this tired drama that has grown up between us
has forced me from the comfort and ease of our friendship.
In the cold, I have found new toys to keep my attention.
For now I am happy with them,
they are much shinier than you will ever be,
if not so intriguing.

Perhaps you were what I was looking for,
but certainly I could not make you love me,
as much as I wished it so.
Now my head has turned, and with it my affections.
There is no longer what there once was.
The fantasies and the world I built for you to inhabit
now stand condemned: abandoned for more fertile plains.
I could not wait forever, Crooked Tooth.

You did not ask; I could not answer,
though my tongue was ready.
You did not come; I could not hold you.
A shame, you fill my arms well.

We stand now as pillars, solid and stony
eyeing each other warily from the cemented foundation of our friendship.
As we stand we are unable to move any closer to one another,
though, at the same time, we cannot move apart.

AcB 11.4.00