You Can’t Have Love

CheneyPoetry0 Comments

You can’t have love
but you can have this kiss out in the rain on Providence Street,
you can have this perfect man pressing you up against the kitchen sink
whispering in your ear, you’re so beautiful,
and you’re only twenty years old then, so you don’t know yet
how bleak it will get, that you’ll get to 34 and still,
that was the only time a man ever told you you were beautiful.

You can’t have love
but you can this other thing that’s sort of like it.
You can have this man who you’re infatuated with, you can
tell yourself that it’s him, it’s only him, it’s only ever and will be him,
and he’ll even tell you that he loves you
when he slides inside you in the dark, and you’ll even believe him,
but you can’t have love,
not the kind of love you want, not if he wants to share his with someone else.

You can’t have love
but you can have a husband. Someone else’s of course, because
you will never be good enough for someone to marry.
But you can go through the motions with this man, slip into his bed,
be taken out for dinner, have Titanic type moments on the regular
in the back of any car or corner or stairwell you can find.

You can’t have love,
but you can meet this guy in a bar and lock eyes and start to talk.
You can get a ride home and trade numbers and chat and get to know each other,
and you can trade secrets and stories like tokens.

Step right up, don’t be shy,
we’re playing a little game here today.
You can’t have love,
but spin this wheel, here, darlin’
and maybe the next man you lie down for
will keep on coming back.

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