Another poem I wrote in 2000.
By William Butler
I watch you from a distance.
Triggered by my heartache song
And you have to remember me.
And you have to remember when…
When being the key word in this game.
Trace back/back/deeper into a memory long past.
Where cave men wrote jazz songs with coal rocks on stone tablets.
When voices were grunts and love was a pain delivered by a blow to the head.
Do you remember me now?
I can tell/see it in the trembling of your strong hands.
My eyes take a snap shot of the way you wear your hair/casually loose with a part down one side.
Your eyes look away/searching for an excuse to leave.
To avoid the sound my jazz music makes.
Don’t worry I’m not here to lure you back.
I’m not here to gloat or attack.
I want to look at you/see how you’re doing.
I want to know if, after everything, it was worth the time we shared.
I see it’s time to part ways.
We can move on/because closure is a prize earned by lovers.
No bitter kiss good-bye.
No jazz song to sing of the pain we held onto for so long.
Because pain is poison and memory is the heated rush of death.
You remember me. Now I can let you go.