She Still Throws Shadows

I button my shirt

while the morning just flirts

with my headache and the rocks

and the shore

 

The door cracks wide open

and I was really hoping

to see you there alone

but you’re not and you’ve brought

a friend

 

Well, you hand me my mail

while I stare past the rail

at your car in the morning but

mama, it’s only

Mexico

 

I left afterward, quite soon

and I’m wondering now; did you?

but I swear that I don’t care

it’s just a habit

not a hobby

 

I look through all my letters

and think, “I ought not to have let her”

when I see your silent parcel,

the letters start talking loudly

 

If we were less than ghosts

and I could swear more truth than most

then honey, we’d be gone

you’d be in Mexico, where I was all along

but then I’d have to leave

 

I still hear you breathe through my sleep

is this yours honey, this midnight creep?

you know that I can’t take it

and you know how gone you are

 

After all those grieving years

she still throws shadows

I can’t catch