In A White Space On Sunday Morning

"_______ ! Where you running? _______ ? Why you running?"

And I lay still
Caught in a white space on Sunday morning
Submerged in my covers
Thinking about a Lolita dress
And a semi-impotent man on the underside of 40
Reminiscing and imagining
the time that we ate side-by-side
Smiling
under the disapproving glare
of a young woman with her family
Yes, I am too young
And to me too,
this seems dirty
But when he and I went to
make out in the parking lot,
I forgot about everything
Now it occurs to me
that there might have been
Something else
missing from our lovemaking
And I wonder,
Did I tell him not to
Or did he just not like to
Or am I simply blocking out
the memory?
When I look down,
between my imaginary legs
I see two eyes glinting
and his familiar sneer
But I wonder if I am just
imagining him there.
He says that I made him
happy
When I was with him,
I only remember his sinister voice
And when he told me
"Your legs are abnormally
large for your body."
I can thank him for nothing
except his sweet sweet dog
who would spoon with me
when he would go to get
coffee, early morning
or the symbol that he was
for me
Something I made up in my
memory about the proof I needed,
A reason to go on running