In all the time in between
I recreated who I believed you to be,
An entity ceased,
When I see you
Before you even say it:
“Donovan.”
I look up, feign surprise.
Did I order an awkward encounter,
With an ex with my coffee?
Apparently.

“What happened to San Diego?”
You gloat so well with just your eyes,
But the sinful smirk helps.
I should have worn a suit,
For its best to be well dressed,
When she’s come to watch you burn.

Well,
At least I showered.

I ask nothing of her,
What is there to say?
There’s a novel between us,
Of morning caresses,
Of smiles and kisses,
And the burning carcasses,
Of indigent love seeking revenge,
Oh, the miseries bequeathed when
Strangers love each other,

Because that’s what we are, darling:
Strangers.
No matter what memories the ether
Holds in its heart.

This is from the poetry collection, Saudade, which can be purchased here.

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Donovan James is a writer, musician, cat enthusiast and psychonaut. He is still an idealist, despite a ravaging cynicism. He believes that the money and effort allocated to war and fear should be used to feed, shelter, and educate the poor, no human being excluded. His work has appeared in Commonline Journal, and Monkey With A Hat On theater productions. His book of poetry, Saudade, can be purchased here.