Poetry

Spooktown, 19 (293.)

The more I think about it, the more I
remember that I saw you
as the counterbalance to myself,
that grounding presence
who brought me down to earth
when I flew too high.
I like to cavort in the stars,
but
I have a hard time
realizing what I can do
in the here, and now, on the ground.
You’re good at that stuff.
Earthy, realistic, driven,
dependable, even sensual
in your own way,
and it’s like,
no wonder I crushed on you
for so long.
I’m sorry to say it here.
I’m sorry I’ll probably never say it in real life.
Maybe I just need to rephrase
all these feelings;
it might be more realistic to say
I see your qualities,
and I appreciate
all the good that you do.

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