He had a face of chiseled granite
complete with stony smile
that face is embedded in my heart
 which lies clinched here 
in the long dark night;

frozen he and frozen I

know I should throw that face into the slough
in the back of the house, walk away

wash my hands with lava soup

and be clean of him.

But he lives in my mind
high up on Mount Rushmore

and I know chipping away at that
is hopeless work;

hearts love what they love

and at some point

they don't go back

to unloving
ever

even if you want them to.

And,
I am not sure I want to.

So long gone he is;

so long he's been inside me

I can't take him out

without doing even more damage
to this beating heart.

So I try to wall off the hurting part

 and put tiny little roses over the hurting scars

 remembering the fun times

 as I place

my smile

 just over his grainy grin

these two

 together in there forever it seems

despite my best effort

to separate them.


Can't talk about it

Can't tell anyone,

they'd say

and have said

I should forget him.

T'ain't easy
cause he's been there so so long;

taking him out would feel like heart surgery

and I am not ready for that just yet.


Some times other people

can just ladle over the scar tissue

 and move on-
I ain't that kind

cause this heart once given

keeps giving on and on
even when it oughtn't,

seems my kind of love
is not for the taking back.


I thought for a time it was
 but all it takes it seems

is this one phone call

 this awkward silence on the line

tells me it's you.

But you didn't talk
and I hold the receiver to my heart

just to be closer to you.

And you still didn't talk
and neither do I.

We never did talk much

so this is not new.

I lay back

gentle breathing

listening to our hearts beating;

silent reconciliations

seems fitting for us two.


I take your quiet

 silence into the bed with me

receiver in hand

knowing you'd do

 what is hard for you to do

in your own time
and I just might see
granite
for the first time
 melting

 through the receiver line

maybe.