Do you ever get tired
of being indestructible?
Sometimes. Do you ever get tired
of trying to kill yourself?
Never. It is hard sound.
The temptress
out of league
that pretends
not to know you at the prom
after the limo and corsage
and the courting and the yearbook.
Cement. I'm sorry
your initials are not next to mine
in the stars above Kettle hill.
I do get tired
of being lucky
day after day
knowing you are waiting for me
six feet away,
your hand still
on my heart.
