i reached out my hand
(could have touched your shoulder)
but you shimmied away
(the invitation lost in your hollow eyes)

the words sat on the tip of my tongue
waiting for your beckoning call
but you didn’t reach
and i was afraid to bring them forth

your song played twice in my ears
as i pedaled home. you will never know
how much it makes me cry, how you
are in my aching heart when i hear it.

but we are separate now. and you
will never quite forgive my choice
just as i could never quite forgive
those aching moments that i sat there.

i reached out my hand
(i could have touched your shoulder)
and i am waiting here now,
the words caught (captive) in my throat.

someday you will define this for them
(this time i won’t hear your explanation).
but i will wish i could be there, captive,
so that your fingers could touch mine,
so that your ache is my ache, our ache.