(from the other side)
I put your picture away
(top desk drawer, right-hand side).
The photo booth strip
is tucked away now too;
in between two dusty packets of condoms
that I keep at my bedside “just in case,”
along with a brand new bottle of lubricant.
(penitent shrug)
I had to.
I knew it was the first thing I would have to do
when you went away.
Because
it would be best that I forget,
rather than let the remembering
torture me, unnecessarily.
Getting some
(as you so aptly put it)
will probably be pretty easy,
considering it has never
been too difficult in the past.
Alas, inevitably, the hardest part
will simply be letting myself get some—
desiring it more than
not having the desire.
I’m just afraid it will feel forced;
contrived, demeaning, cheap.
Yet, it’s okay,
It’s good to be on the other side
for once. Certainly, insightful.
Really.
for I also know that by the time
I’m getting some
you’ll be forgotten,
and so I won’t feel so rotten
anymore.
By the way,
I won’t be writing to you
while you’re gone.
Even though you might presume
that I will.
Even though I know
you’d want me to.
Even though you might be shocked
to see your box…empty.
And even though your heart may sink,
and it may even ache a little,
and you might even think…
“Is something wrong?,”
if only because you are merely human.
But then again, (it seems that you forget),
so am I.
Goodbye my love,
goodbye.
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l.m