No, not today.
There is a strange clarity in the mirror on the wall.
The books gather dust. The chapter is closed. The ink has run dry.
Yet somehow I always knew. It was meant to be.
He owes it to me and my destiny.
She reminds him of his mother. But I’m the father.
He gives her his words and his moves.
With me, he walks in silence. Like a shadow, he defends and protects.
She has his charm. I have his stammers.
She makes him smile. I confess, “Your teeth are yellow”.
He takes her out to dinner. But he waits till I finish eating.
He believes in her. And I am in love with his lies.
He dances with her. I ask him not to moonwalk. “Don’t dirty your socks”.
He drinks her in like she tastes of wine. And I keep him awake.
(Hot coffee. Sugar free.)
She is his leading lady. He is my storyteller.
They celebrate in a dash of colour. He makes me blush in black.
He has chosen her for youth, for life. He wants to grow old with her.
And he calls me when his Grandma dies.
She smiles like bright sunshine. A songbird in love.
I sprained my ankle. I couldn’t dance to save my life.
I’m cold and unfeeling. Old and prescient.
Claiming baggage. Losing my mind.
But I can sleep tonight.
I remember his fever. The sniffs and the sighs.
I remember my healing. His shoves and his bruises.
I remember his days and nights. His history. His dates.
She will be his date tonight.
I’ll meet him tomorrow.
I’ll purse my lips and nod my head. We’ll talk about yesterday.