another time, another year

It wasn't all for naught!
Because I can make these mistakes alone
But you know we can make them better
Stay with me, eat crow with me
Sometimes the moon's hues resemble
Your skin's tone, and I think maybe
It's your face up there, and perhaps
we're not so bad off after all.

Because it is the last day of the year
I'm writing a list of everything I love
And it grows long because there's no sense
in harboring contempt- we do what we have to
I'm accustomed to this cycling up and down
the dirtiest streets looking for a way to turn
the tables (and me) to face the wall.

I wanted to tell you, after dinner over wine,
Or on your doorstep smoking cigarettes,
when your hair stuck to your sweat-
soaked face, which complimented the lines
that have grown around your eyes.
I wanted to tell you in the park where
the dogs were swimming, and then at
The river when we just stood there thinking,
"More time."

I would have said that of the last 365 days,
360.5 weren't ever this fine.