Hunting Season

Stir not my dear, 
Please!
Sleep soundly while I plan,
Because you don’t have to be awake to be my man;
Nobody needs to know—not even you—that it’s all in my head,

Madly drawing, drawing 

on the perfect words we could have said.

Check my notes, 
because I've made sure our story ends 
with "happily ever after,"

Our fairy tale is oozing 
with mountains of fucking
love and laughter.

Because, you see sir, 

When forced to fill in those glaring empty slots and blank spaces,
Etched by unringing telephones and unkissed faces,
I must do my best to create a story that deters my tears,
One I can tell in my twilight years--
That you and I talked of love and read great poetry,
Sitting together, at that summer’s end, reciting Yeats, maybe?

Ah, yes! In our world I’m always smooth-skinned and tan;

Nobody can see the cut on my leg—at least I hope they can’t.

My hair is the perfect curly and smile so white;
Don’t worry, I don’t need you for this part--
You've been drawn in the perfect light.

What took me so long anyway? Oh, yes…
I hoped we’d do it together,
No bother at all though; I’ve created a better story in my letters.

So love me, or leave me, 
Just dim the lights when you go;
I crafted more lines for us to play out in our epic one-man show.