I really couldn’t tell you
just how I feel
looking at those words
so few
yet so distraught over
I’m sure.
Their arrangement and their form
the precise words to use -
what to mention; when to stop.
I imagine you reading them
aloud several times
and in your head several more.
But probably
not as much as I .
And yet each time
I scan, scrutinize, study, peruse
one character after the next
I find no secret answers
and I really couldn’t tell you
just how I feel.
Am I supposed to forget
or remember,
and what parts
scrambled, aligned within my brain
were you hoping would change
the way I see these words
before me?
Erasure
replacement
was there a purpose
to this point
without a point?
Or did the
over-run, high-hung  nostalgia
exit you and enter me
because you have no place
to lock it up
for good?
And through all this
I really couldn’t tell you
just how I feel.