Sometimes I doodle between phone calls. Last week before Yosemite, this was one of my page’s tangles of words. Inspired, no doubt, by my discomfort dating someone with a partner—then that someone going through a break-up, and my sensing that for multiple reasons, now’s not a great time for us to date. Any angst in the tangle is not intended to be directed at that person. I think she’s quite lovely. In general, these are things I never hope to be to anyone I’m involved with. Was anyone else ever irritated by All American Reject’s song Dirty Little Secret when it was popular?
What I am not:
an emergency exit or escape
a break from your girlfriend/SO/partner
I could be scribbles,
could be condensation turned trickle
could be a surprise candy from
the colorful piñata, skidded beneath picnic table.
Could be a conversation
about superheroes, or ethics, or plans.
I could be a hand.
I am not your distraction.
Until, perhaps, someday I am:
mouth on mouth, laughing, teasing
joking about where we could be,
not particularly caring
because our distracting one another
is not really