John Butler
I listened to his song ‘Ocean’ every day when I loved you,
because I loved you.
I thought of posting it.
but the only outcome I could see was you double tapping
and me tapping back, our fingers mimicking
the wordless staccato, hammering on then
pulling away.
I type out the message, “did you know?”’
but I hit the back button thirteen times.
My heart crescendos when I hover over the ‘send’
and falls flat as I decide not to.
I’m not sure which would be sadder;
knowing maybe we could’ve been in love
before you walked down the aisle to the
rest of your life,
or knowing you never would have loved me
no matter what I did,
even if I bore everything to you.
At night I revel in my memories of you,
all arms and curly brown hair,
teaching me to play guitar in my father’s basement
and I am reminded that I have never really been in love,
not before you and certainly not after.
I listened to ‘Ocean’ for twelve minutes today
and I pretended to love you for every aching second of it.
6 thoughts on "John Butler"
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Love that captures the use of sensory reaction and demands the use of ritual is incredible…and makes for touchable poetry. The spacing of actions introduced in this poem allows the reader to journey along with the angst and longing. 🙌🏻
Thank you so much Christina! That means a lot!!
This feels potent. Reminds me of ‘he’s fine,’ by the secret sisters
Thank you Arwen! I’ll have to take a look at that one.
Nice love poem!
Thank you Linda!