Wanting What You Can’t Have Anymore
We were long and far away from the old city. When everyone
grew above the wild stalk. We grew wild and then grew into
our bodies. We named and then named ourselves again. We learned
to be weightless and floated above the ground. We danced
until the sun came up and waited for the next bar to open at 6am
so we could start dancing again. We fell into each others arms
and walked home with enough music to last us the rest of our lives.
We fell apart at the same time and never together. We got jobs. We lost friends.
We failed horribly at love. We learned gravity and walked heavier
across the concrete. We were left wanting all that was behind.
We don’t dance as good no more. Maybe once in a while we can
find our legs. We tried and then tried at love again. We tried to be more
of someone’s good memories than their bad. We accumulated so many things:
bills, books, new ailments, regrets. We went to clubs and spent the night
watching people dancing. We listened to clothes in the dryer
or a loose fan knocking on rotation. We lost all of our CD’s.
We don’t look for the old cities. We looked for them and never saw
the same places. Sometimes we forget we were ever those people.
Sometimes we remember them too much. We stayed up until morning
and thought of each other. We thought of when we never saw endings.
Author Bio: Jason Bayani is the author of Amulet, from Write Bloody Press. He’s an MFA grad from Saint Mary’s College, a Kundiman fellow, and a longtime veteran of the National Poetry Slam Scene. He’s currently the program manager for Kearny Street Workshop in San Francisco and continues to perform regularly.
Artwork: Sara Hasse