Freakishly long poem

Perfect

You weren’t perfect
And I had another

But let me tell you
Let you listen

He wasn’t it.
He wasn’t there.
Sitting next to me,
His eyes elsewhere.

His dress was clean-cut
And his jaw powerful and strong
He looked like he belonged in a boy band
And indeed it was his dream.

While you with your stained teeth
And mismatched clothes…
You weren’t perfect
With your shining skin
And unruly hair

But…I couldn’t get you off my mind
The same way you couldn’t take yours
Off me.

You sat across from me
With your pleading eyes
Begging me to look at you
With silent prayers
And muted cries.

Little did you know
I never looked away from you
Watched you from the corner of my eye
And I only knew
You were watching me
When your favorite song came on
And you didn’t move
Didn’t budge
Didn’t tear your eyes from me.

Your hand reached across the table
Palm down
But stretched toward me
Quiet and pleading
But THERE.
While my “the one”
Looked off into the distance
Stared off towards the stage
Wanting to be there
Rather than with me.

So he goes.
So I let him.
“Go,” I say, gesturing to his mistress.
Go away
But I don’t say that out loud.
So he leaves
Gets up and goes
Strolls towards the stage
And grabs the microphone
With more want in his eyes
Than he ever had for me.

And the next moment
I am next to you
Hand outstretched
Staring into your stunned eyes
“Want to dance?” I say
Anxious to be with you
During your favorite song.

You sit, you stare
You don’t move
Too afraid maybe?
But I won’t have it
I pull you up
And drag you close to me.

As we dance back and forth
To your favorite song
And the next one
And the next
Neither wanting to let go.

By the time
My boy comes back
I’m sitting next to you instead
Laughing
Like I never did with him.

So I stand up
And he glances from me
To you
And back to me.

And with an embarrassed grin
But a firm look
He understands
The look in my eyes
The words on my lips
You have your love
And I have mine.
He’s not happy
But he knows I’m right.
So with a final nod
And a short goodbye
He turns back to the stage
Because even he knows
That we can never make each other happy
Like his stage can do for him
And like you can do for me.

So years later
As we lie in bed
Husband and wife
I look at my lover, my life.
And you look back at me
With your stained teeth
And mismatched pajamas
Your unruly hair
Falling into your shining eyes
And your skin
Glowing with pride

And the only thing
Running through my mind
Was how did I ever
Once believe
That you weren’t perfect
For me?