“Beautiful Debra,” he says, caressing my cheek
He’s unaffected by my tears.
Once I’m gone, I’ll never see him again
I am certain. It’s not just fear.
After I leave, he sends a text,
“My hallway smells like you.”
He calls me Babes, says he misses me
I haven’t got a clue.
“Take a leap of faith with me,”
he’d said when we first met.
I know now that he’s not sincere,
this “faith” is all I’ll get.
“Amazing, you are,” he’d say via text,
the only relationship we really had.
Not amazing enough, I’ve concluded now
Being apart, for him, isn’t bad.
Despite the pain, I think of him
every moment of every day.
I wonder why I feel at all,
why I still want him in this way.
I think about his humor, intelligent and dry.
Slow and graceful winks performed by almond-shaped, blue eyes.
I think about him kissing me, how passionate he’d been.
I’d watch his face, he’d devour me, eagerly breathing me in.
Loving via email, when you’re far apart, is rough.
But when you’re close and he’s just not there,
that’s when “faith” is not enough.