Dreaming Stone

I.

As if it were really you there on St. Patrick’s Street,
Sauntering past the old factory,
In your fuck you shades and your low slung jeans.
Looking taller somehow and too thin
Still overly concerned with looking hip
Despite the support I know is hidden in your shoe -
You have always had a fascination with the In crowd.
Too cool to care and nothing to lose

But, you kept that smooth little stone I gave you
For sentimentality’s sake

You know:
My biggest mistake was
I'd have given you anything,
I talked about growing a life together.
You talked of bigger spaces and living fast
Needing your friends who were more like groupies
I might have guessed it wouldn’t last

"Go find yourself," I said finally. "Go find yourself
then come back and find me."
You didn't close the door. You didn't say good-bye,
Just tumbled down the stairs into an April Fool’s day,
Flying away with your purple backpack,
Down the middle of the highway.

II.

As if It were another time when we were riding down the 417
Past the orange road work barrels, in the rain
Rolling right on down into the sea
That's how I knew it must be a dream

III.

As if it were really you I find drowning.
Your white body lying at the bottom of a deep clear pool
I’m terrified you are dead; I’m terrified I’ll die without you
I dive in without thinking and find the green water surprisingly warm
I swim down, down, down and grasp your right arm
Haul you upward towards the sunlight
I pull you out; clamp my mouth over yours
Not a lover but Someone Holy
I pray
And breathe and breathe and pray
Lay your head on my breast
You say, “I’m so tired of swimming”
I say, “Stay here then, and rest.”

But you’re gone
You gave up this city, address unknown
But sometimes I feel you drowning
somewhere
in your heart, a stone

IV.

In passing, my therapist suggests I might try finding another muse

V.

As if it were really you there in Toronto
When I was staying the night that time at the Delta Hotel
You were standing at the gas pump across the highway
Filling the tank of a blue PT Cruiser
Had a cowboy hat pulled way down
But it was your familiar pose,
One foot balanced on the other
I wanted to cross that double line to see you better.
But instead I chose to just stand and stare,
Debated whether to call your name out loud.
But felt too proud to set up those warning flares
As it turns out – It wasn’t you there anyway…
New York plates
They say there are doubles of everyone somewhere
And you have more than your share…

You’re gone
You gave up this city, address unknown
But sometimes I feel you dreaming
somewhere
in your heart, a stone