Cold Water

I am searching for a way to bid you farewell.

Your constant search for a home,

Your carefully curated old mans soul,

The slow restless energy, trapped deep within your bones.

The whiskey cured rumble of your voice.

Utterances, so restrained that when you spoke,

You spoke only in riddles.

Your kisses, deep and full,

Like you were drinking full swallows of the coldest water.

Is there anything better than cold water? You’d say

I am searching for a way to bid you farewell.

You, the master of careless behavior-

For all that was left unsaid in the morning light

While the storm raged quietly outside

And what if I can’t find the words?

No knots to loosen with my hands?

No letters or poems to cast aside?

What then?

Shall I ask you to leave?