Under A Streetlight
A black sky melts on another Portland night, but in the dark, there is no rain until you feel it. What am I to do as I'm walking here with you?
I let the rain wash over me, though it's less a choice than a reality of winter.
As you pause to enjoy the sight of the rain under a streetlight, I long to see the details that drop from your stories.
I bring the conversation into the light; a decision I will soon regret. The walk from park to pub is easier than the talk from present to past.
And I think words I would never say.
Hey Mary Ann, I don't know if I can.
Though I see just what you need, I can see I'm not the man.
The ex who deeply hurt you, well his deeds have hurt me too;
I had no way of knowing till we spoke of something true.
The distance between two people isn't always measured in inches.
Where are you now?
I am here and all is well, but you're still lost in a private hell. I can see it all while under the light. The years have left you wounded more than makeup can disguise. You suspect you will be wounded by the deeds of future guys.
What am I to do?
I steer us clear of the streetlight, as the melting black sky returns to wash the details away.
I'd love to love you more than you've ever known. That's what I have to give; nothing more, but nothing less. Don't think I didn't feel that spark when you took my hand. But it's not the rain that so quickly washes your flame away.
Letting go.
Cold hands find warm pockets, but a cold heart lingers. Maybe someday you'll set it free. If that day comes, please look for me. I'll be standing under a streetlight, ready to show you how beautiful the here and now can be.
