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Next Tuesday
Maybe in a week or two I'll forget the smile that reaches your eyes
I'll forget the pounding of an ocean in your ribs and the dust on your sleeves
Perhaps on Tuesday I won't have to turn away when I see you reach for a hand that's not mine
or when you look at me with those laughing eyes
There's a chance that by next week I'll listen to those songs because
I want to, not because
they remind me of you
Or my heart won't miss a beat
when your name appears across the screen
Maybe next Tuesday I won't have to let go before I'm ready
because the feel of your touch
and warmth of you
won't bring me shivers
that I shouldn't be feeling.
I could listen to her stories and give her advice
like I know I should, because that's what best friends do, and I won't feel that twinge
you know the one
on my heart when nothing should be twinging
Perhaps by the time another week goes by I won't want to show you things
tell you things
I've never shown anyone, becase I'll no longer feel that you're the only one
who will truly understand
Maybe I'll be able to appreciate the love that was
almost
but not quite there
or remember the way your hands feel or your voice
without feeling the kind of heartache that's dull and hollow,
but remember it with the kind of heartache that swells and fills you up
But for now, until next week, I'll drag my feet a little,
and feel guilty when we're alone together
and wish I could have traced your lips with mine
and wonder what it would be like to fall asleep in your arms or dance with you under the moon
Who knows, maybe it'll happen
But not now, not yet, but someday, maybe
Maybe next Tuesday
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