CONSPIRACES

 CONSPIRACES 

Night conspires with the stars,

A predictable script unfolding,

Guiding you back to my open arms,

To the quiet surrender of my bed.

The darkness knows our ritual,

Its shadows cloaking the ache I cannot name.

Divided, my heart fractures in the silence:

Half of me sees the words in between—

The gaps in your promises,

The half-truths whispered in moonlight,

Glimmering like coins tossed in a well,

Never to be retrieved.

The other half builds brick walls,

Each stone a defense against your leaving,

Yet crumbling with every touch you offer.

Do we feel what we think we do,

What we say we do?

Or are we actors in a tired play,

Rehearsing lines we no longer believe?

Your laughter fills the room like smoke,

Swirling, intoxicating, then gone.

I search your eyes for something real,

But find only echoes of my own yearning.

I’m sure how this will go,

As it has always gone before.

The clock ticks toward your departure,

Your three-hour drive home

Carving a familiar path through the dawn.

My heart rides in your backseat,

A silent passenger,

Tucked among the clutter of your life,

Unseen, unclaimed.

You’ll call when you get there,

Your voice crackling through the line,

Just to say you missed me,

Just to keep my head spinning.

Each word a hook, pulling me back,

Though I know the tide will turn again.

I’m caught in this orbit,

Drawn to the gravity of your fleeting warmth.

Yet tonight, I linger in the wreckage,

Tracing the fault lines of our story.

The porch light flickers, a weary sentinel,

Watching for your headlights that always fade.

I dream of breaking this cycle,

Of words unspoken, walls unbuilt,

But my hands tremble with the weight of hope,

And I let you in, as I always do.

Perhaps this is my surrender,

To love what cannot stay,

To hold the fleeting close,

Knowing it will slip through my fingers.

But in this tangled twilight,

I am still here, waiting,

For the night to betray me once more.