MY little BROWN BOOK

Belle

I meant to text you my secrets

I meant to call you I did

I was gonna say I love you

I fell asleep instead

I worked 16 hours straight

I meant to be your polygraph

and wriggle when your truth came out

I had the kind of day only you would want to hear about

I meant to text you Belle

I meant to buy you bubble tea and chicken

I meant to show up at your job

You would have been so happy

Such simple things keep you looking familiar

I meant to be a stud selling smiles

Letting you buy them dirt cheap

Belle I got mad discounts for you

I meant to compliment your skin again

Dark and smooth and situated in my bathtub

Looking like a shadow from the past

Helium hope rising in high-pitched harmony

Your squeals and whistles still replaying in my mind

I meant to skip shallow compliments

I meant to text you and love your brain

But there are rules to this game

spreading myself thin these days Belle

Working, writing, walks with Daughter,

talks with the Clergy, and groceries galore.

I meant to ask you to Trader Joes

then to Barnes and Noble

then home again with me.

I meant to run your bath Belle

I've never known you to be sweaty

You always smell like Sci-fi

Teasing my transition to stability

I meant to let you be the only one

Belle these are days when wolverines

aren't healing properly and veterinarians are falling asleep.

Circuitous first dates playing out like clockwork has twisted me.

Belle your at the top of my passion pose

I hold out my hand to you and flag down cabs with the other

I meant to stand still for your photo

Belle these are days when perfectly good super models can't find work

We can't build a wall fast enough to keep the common faces out

Preserving jobs for models is busy work Belle

I meant to do my part and be your agent

I meant to be your crutch and your wings

Keep your head up Belle things are looking better

I feel really good about this place we're in

I read the reviews on Yelp, Belle

We can eat here.

We can swap compliments.

We can file for divorce in reverse

We can moan in the morning and mourn in the moaning

Dead leaves flying back to trees getting, green again

Shutting our eyes and sleeping during our dreams again

Finding fables underneath our dinner table

Footsies feeling like young Libertines with quills at the ready

writing about fresh wine and

un-shaving Parmesan on gourmet Spaghetti

I meant to refill you quill with ink, Belle

That's not how they work though

That's not how we work though

We're different

All we have to do is be comfortable with our kind of slow

Who's keeping score Belle?

Hopefully Jon Brian can score our movie

I move you and you move me

I call you and you call me

And we buy baguettes and split'em fifty fifty

I can't believe it's not butter Belle

You can still try to convince me.

We're our own set of rules.

We're our own judges

We're our own jury

We're our own story.

Both versions are valid and there's no such things as stupid questions

I meant to cut your grass, just cuz

My best ideas are saved just for you.

Next time

I'll do and not say

I promise you Belle.