30 poems in 30 days: Day 15

The Shooter
For the man who will know what I mean

I will never be able to fall in love
With a man who does not alight
Over a herd of deer, shocked and stilled,
On the side of a busy road.
I know this.

I know that sometimes people
Say the things they don’t mean,
But too often they say the things
They do mean, but you don’t want to hear.
And I will not be able to hear those things.
Not tonight.

I will keep all the marble promises
As closely as I can,
But honestly, my fingers get tired.
Sometimes, they cramp,
And sometimes I forget what I’m holding.
I drop things a lot.
I know this, I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that when things were good,
I didn’t make them better,
I probably could have done better,
Been good,
Been better and gooder and right enough
To keep all my marbles, and all your marbles
In careful handfuls.

I want to say to you
I will hold them better,
Here is one more smooth and shiny promise
To knock against the others.
Come back.
Stay this time,
See how careful I’ll be
Like I have a glass of water on my head
Like I’m holding the most fragile of birds
Like I will even try my hardest to not let
My knees go weak at the thought of
The back of your neck in the morning.