January 1, Nervous

when I met you for the first time,
it was in a bar
I was on the verge,
a storm of beer in my belly
to cover up the nervous

you had no shame, laughed like you meant it

later that night we would kiss ferociously
and sleep in separate beds,
both dreaming of elsewhere
the nervous whisked off
to that special place,
where feelings go when they are forgotten
later we would use mobile phones
the way some people use lifelines,
pulling each other in,
straining to save each other

and we frequently do.

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