I hate to see you go, girl,
but damn I love to watch you leave
taking with you
the better bits of me
and thus I sat, remote in hand
and a marathon of meaningless
mediocrity minding me
from across the first-floor
prison. It was empty
in bed without you, baby,
and I couldn’t stand the way
your side cried.

I hate to see you go, my baby,
but don’t those stars shine
the way they point me to you?
but you shoulda left your star map
so’s I could find my way
just to watch you leave, because
in truth, baby, you ain’t never

I know, ’cause I can see your
scent when I shut my ears and
your colours run
through my mind
and I’m breathing but they ain’t
no air up amongst the stars
so, come back to bed,
my baby, the place where
wives is supposed to lay.

‘Cause, I don’t like to watch you leave
that much.

Naw, girl, I’m lying.
I still love to watch you


14 Replies to “Leave”

  1. I hate leaving.

    I truly love this piece. Your magic words whisper echoes across the star-spackled skies, climbing ladders of eloquent dissension, that speak of familiar rhythms that always bring me back to your Eastern shores, and to your side where husbands is supposed to be. I love you.

  2. Wonderful piece. I bet it would sound great as a Spoken Word piece too. It has that kind of rhythm to it.

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