Time to hang-up all your hang-ups.

I don't want broken love anymore. I cannot be the man in waiting. I can't. I'm hungry, tired and lost. My time is too precious to play games. I am ready for love.

I drank to forget and it didn't work, so I decided not to forget you. I tucked you in my pocket full of rocks and kept you there like a buried jar of pennies. I still have you and when I see you it will be a rainy day. For years now I have been the stand by friend of remorse and sorrow. I have waited and longed for a kiss near a reflective pond in the still night. I wanted you in my dreams and tossed and turned in my lumpy bed. I slept with smelly girls and waited for them to go. I cried about missed opportunity.

I stood in hot showers for too long to warm up and get awake. I closed my eyes and let the steady steam hit me, matting my hair, hiding my tears. I want you to see the stoic me, the one that sits like a Taoist next to a river. If you might see that in me, you might sit beside me and watch the river roll over smooth rocks.

I think I have received you used and lost in love. I resonate with tingles when you are near and bounce like ripples after a stone has been thrown in a still lake. That stone sinks like me into a delirium of history. I float with careless ease, beyond the manifested wake. Your love is not with me, so I still sink.

Your short love was an astronomical bliss, briefly turning into my sight for a brief period, to turn again out of sight. What was I to do? Hold onto a night, hold onto a moment? I did. I wish you had.

This fleeting obtuse love, has been enough to bear and I hope it is not over. I wish it to ever evolve through the ages like a lost bottle of wine. If it may turn, so be it, just know that when it was ripe and aged, it was pure and beautiful.

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