47. My imaginary tryst

I haven’t loved a human in a long time
Someone with flaws that make me
grit my teeth or look away
Or look them in the eye
Oh no way
I’d rather look away
And fawn over a figment of my imagination
Who I Summon from the dark alley
On a misty morning sipping some lemon tea.

We don’t have anything in particular to discuss
No hows, whys, what’s become of us
In fact we don’t talk at all
We sit together and watch ages go by
Parched and Wary, high and dry
wondering who will speak the first word
or say the first good bye

We’ve grown old together, skin folding
breaths synchronized, ticks and twitches
but we haven’t yet figured it out
whats to happen on the day I meet
the lover who is for real

for the confusion that will ensue and
the resistance that will barricade my heart
from what could be a tryst
formed from shards of trust
stacked delicately into a shapeless entity
with sands of disarray at the ends

i don’t think my figment
will stand my new found allegiance
he will stomp on it
in cool measured steps
and I will once more think
that everything was so perfect with us

but it was
and this is
imperfect.

And hopefully I’ll be able to switch off the TV
or the radio drone, the two faced monologue
and sit alone without my phone
sipping my morning tea

pulling the cord of the blinding blinds
to let the sun and the warmth trickle in
along with the sights and sounds of
the bustling mundane that sometimes
irks and cuts but more so, lays bare

in front of me