And So Now I Have to Turn You Over, Love

And so now it's a book
It's a cup of coffee
It's a time stamp, date stamp
You've been here
You've been there
You don't know where
You're going

It's a list of things
That don't make sense
Unless you're you
To see them

But I can't keep baking
The same old bread
Hoping it'll rise higher
Than the last loaf did

I can't keep reading
The same three books
Expecting different endings
Expecting the books to let me decide
How they should end

And so now I have to turn you over, love

And I think we both knew
This time would come

Put a foot in the water
Then the next
Then a hand
Up to your arm

See there?

Now you're barely here

Doesn't it feel wonderful
Being barely here?

Or barely anywhere really

The time has come to fold you up
And stow you away
Like some sentimental suitcase
That only gets dusted off
Every ten years

For reunions, and weddings
And the occasional anniversary trip
Planned by a guilty husband
At the very last moment

I have to say--

'Well, this was mine
And now it's not anymore'

And it could be a shame
It could be a real shame

Or it could free us both

The trick is how you turn it

How you unclasp your hands
And raise them up, up, up

To say--

'This is fine
I'm fine with this'

This is exactly
How I wanted this
To be