This one’s due to Alexa…

This one's due to Alexa Weinstein, who wrote a completely different poem, with a line about a chorus that stuck in my head and made it really hard to listen to the rest of her fabulous reading, 'cause I was writing this song in my head instead.

CHORUS

So he gets up in the morning,
and forgets to say goodbye, and he
never thinks to call you, so you
worry, wonder why
you don't just leave him sleeping;
wonder if he'd even care,
and your heart is breaking over
and over
again --

    and the sunlight on his body,
    and the ocean in his eyes, and the
    turning, twisting beauty
    that strikes you deep inside,
    and he touches you so gently,
    with hands that know your mind,
    and all that's left to say
    is love.

But he's forgotten every birthday,
and he never says your name;
your friends all think you're crazy
and his friends think the same.
You're sure he'll never think of you
the way you want him to
and your heart is breaking over
and over
again --

    and the starlight on his body,
    and the forests in his eyes, and the
    turning, twisting tenderness
    that pulls you deep inside,
    and he speaks to you so cleanly,
    with words that taste your mind,
    and all that's left to say
    is love.

Yet this can't go on forever,
it'd tear you both in two;
it's not easy for him either,
and sometimes you wonder who
thought this would be funny
or even thought this might be fun
and your heart is breaking over
and over
again --

    and your tears fall on his body,
    and he kisses swollen eyes, and the
    turning, twisting tangled limbs
    are meshing deep inside,
    and he sings to you so silently,
    whispers to your mind,
    and all that he can say
    is love.

    and all that he can say
    is love.

No matter what the verses,
no matter what the hell they said,
it's the chorus -- that damn chorus --
that will stick
in your head.

*****
M.A. Mohanraj
May 9, 1998

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