If on a January Morning

It is like the squiggle that we drew up on the chalkboard—
Your temper evidenced in tenth grade mathematics:
Tonight you have remembered your uneven patterns, 
Radiating roundabout mercurial desire,
Emotionally stunted and at times a bit aloof;
You make stardust of the wishes that I send to you, 
Simulate a rainbow from the things I never told you, 
And in a whimper smudge out all the colours in the sky.

One night I loved you through a box of sprinkled cupcakes,
Strung together words that muddled both our senses,
Watched you apprehensive as we slept in the hotel.

And then we sauntered towards our final brunch down in New York,
Underestimating evanescent pastries;
As I helped you pack up all your bags,
Reinventing yesterday’s tame conversation,
You called me out on my nostalgia and said you’d see me soon again. 

Then you put me on a plane down to Miami,
Took me to the synagogue partitioned by a wall of plants.
And when I had to stay an extra several days,
You blacked out all your passion with a waver and a faulty reason why. 
I sat there wrapped up in a fleecy mint green blanket,
And when I became so well that I could leave you—
That’s when you said we’d spend a long time in each other’s arms.

When I flew off one summer’s morning,
You promised you would miss our Saturday adventures.
One day I said I could have trusted you—
Again we straddle sentimental limbo.
Too many times I glance down at my phone.
And didn’t you say that you would never leave me,
And didn’t you hold me tight and say I was a special princess 
Decked out in frivolities and an extra thought for you.
Wasn’t just another year enough to see the truth?
Another year before you knew just how much I belonged to you! 

Waiting is a woman’s withering of youth:
How many sunsets can I wager for the day I send my loving, 
How many snowfalls will I weather on the trim of my fur coat 
Before you’ll think that I should marry you…

Yesterday you lost a sum of cash at the casino;
It has become a way of life—losing is the same to you— 
But when you see me taken in a large white dress, 
Crinoline that trails on the floor,
When you see me holding a bouquet of flowers 
Veiled in an aisle just in spite of you,
Don’t you think that you had lost your chance to keep me. 

I wrapped myself in brittle, opalescent promises,
Staving off the cold that punctured your indifference. 
And don’t pretend that you had never wondered at our infinite connection—
At times I saw your pupils sparkle in the New York City lights,
The several times you almost said you loved me,
The single time I almost said goodbye.

And then, if on a January morning,
You could have the chance to leave me—
I hope emphatically you waver,
Remember how it was when you once said you’d never leave me,
Bathe your vacillation in a loyal rosy smile,
Approach the phone and tell me that you need me,
Tell me once you’ll never know the word goodbye.