oh sailor (part 2)

You’ve gone missing.

You’d think in days where everything is electric there would always be some way to contact someone. But that’s not the case for you. You’re still a mystery. A phone number that works half the time. But came with a cautionary warning about who might pick up. You told me about the room that you live in. How you line the door with cans so you know if he tries to sneak in. Whenever we’re together you always have a suitcase with you. Like you’re a constant traveler. We pretend you want to be ready at all times for a transatlantic flight. We’re constantly waiting for the call that your needed in Paris. But when you whisper to me, “Its the only way I know I’m safe.” I see through all our lies. You know just the right way to blow my mind with stories that frighten me. I wouldn’t even know where to go to find you. Knock on every door of a street I don’t even know if you live on or not.

How do you lose someone like this in the modern age?

I write you down a lot. All of your stories. I wonder if you’d be flattered or scared. Scared to have you life displayed like its a comedy of errors. Displayed waiting to be judged. I only want you to be displayed because I love you. I want people to appreciate the lines on your face. Your hands that don’t work anymore. The novels you have deep inside of you. The rings that cover every fingers. The way you can tell 3 stories at the same time.

But when you disappear I tap my pen in place. Its a blinking cursor. I can’t tell your stories for you. I can’t write you out by myself because we’ve only just begun. And I curse those times I didn’t answer your calls. That time you left me that 13 minute message. You were so enraptured with some motivational speaker on PBS. You wanted to buy all of his books. You wanted me to read his books so bad. You had tried to tell me about him before. I could hear the love in your voice, the pure joy. You went on and on, trying to remember the names of his books. Fumbling over words and forgetting names. While I had just watched the phone ring and ring, stared at your number blinking on the screen. I should have answered that call. Let your scratchy voice tell me whatever you want.

Tell me your secrets, ask me your questions, oh lets go back to the start.

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