A cat has nine lives. A man has nine apologies.
Here I am on my 17th:
Thank God for the mercy of women.
Wishing there was a cancer for bad habits
I look into your eyes with another rainy summer sorry;
My mind has been on other things…
But I swear my hands have not been on other women:
too many boomerang caresses have come back to strangle me before.
Don’t give me that Tax Man stare: I’m keeping nothing from you
Swear I’ve never stray-walked in the Tiger Woods.
I may not make symmetry with even your lately autumn leaf standards
but I would never shop for honesty in second-hand stores.
And from that your trust should be enough to keep us going
One day at a time,
As we climb this mountain of recovery
Atop of which we will meet each other again
as if for the first time, eternally.
Dasein Petals © Copyright 2013
(This poem is the first in the series of my #99poems poetrython. More information is available here).