Nonethemore

The end of a relationship

is a funeral

where you see other couples

who kiss and laugh

and love like you loved

and you are reminded that

in another life not so dressed in black

that maybe you’d be with that girl

who is with that boy

who would be with no one

if you had your arm around hers

and you told her about yourself

with emphasis on your muscles

and hair

which is love and lively

and falls onto her body

hiding the breasts you spent weeks

trying to uncover

in soft, archeological digs

of stumbling fingers

and occasional raspberries

as you make love

with those same muscles

that were made with a push and pull

all for this moment

of pushing and pulling

that would pass

and she would too one day

a different funeral

and then she’d

look for that boy

who could’ve been

*

It was a slow suicide

the kind that takes a lifetime

of natural causes and memories

and where birds hang overhead

birds whose names I never cared to learn

because there was always much to do

but birds nonetheless

that sing songs I don’t know the words to

but songs nonetheless

and I tell them

in words they don’t understand

but words nonetheless

that I’m dying here

slowly, sure,

but dying nonetheless

and could I have some quiet

to think and rest and listen to myself

to remember the reminders

of pain of living that brings life

and this suicide

and the warm milk

and clotheslines wrapped in summer

and the beers

and the patios

and the girls

and the boys

and the puke

and the poems

but reminders nonetheless

and the birds would look at me

afraid but too familiar

distant but too close

for I have been here for days

and sometimes years

and they reply with a soft tweet

but a tweet nonetheless

that answers my request by neglecting it

and I lose my voice in time

and when I open my mouth

a chirp comes out

which are not the last words I would’ve chosen

but they are last words nonethemore