I would ask you to meet me
out there
somewhere out there, but
I doubt you would come
not all
of you, anyway
You could come with breaks
and bottomless bags, torn on the
edges of pages
I haven’t had the chance to read
yet
I would take you
in
the way one wants to be forgave
and sip sadness over steaming bowls
of soups and other scenes
if you would
let me.