(Written April 19, 2011, 11:30 pm.)
Do you remember the parts of you
You forgot to take as your hurried out?
I keep them on my window sill,
People often ask what they're all about.
I smile and cringe and smile and say,
They're mine for just these moments few,
You'll be back to claim them any day
To give them to someone new.
Some of me is drowning in wine.
A little of you is still mine.
And the more the wine gets through,
The less I think I have of you.
Sometimes when I'm looking away,
I could swear the sill slowly moves.
And I wonder then if my mind's at play,
And I wonder if some of you disapproves
That I still talk to the tiny slivers
Of you that you left behind,
That I still breathe the slightest shivers
Of things no longer in your mind.
So while some of me drowns in wine,
I know a little of you is still mine.
And I shudder as the wine gets through,
At giving up that little, too.