for you

my last act here

was to turn tail and run,

bleeding heart not quite

to a torrent, but damn near

close enough

and i pushed my little

wooden rowboat

out into the waves,

aimed for the horizon

out past the breakers

i know that there was

nothing for me to break here,

but three sheets to the wind

and alone, that’s hard to believe

my guilt is emptied

from the stomach over the side,

suddenly seasick and so

far away from that shore

and i’ll go back eventually,

after i’m done laying against

the soggy wooden boards under

a sky choked with storm clouds,

like the way your name stuck

in my throat

and maybe you’ll be there,

waiting for me with dry clothes

and open arms

but even if you’re not,

i’ll understand,

and still keep the coffee hot

and that candle burning 

for a little while longer