upstream

the limp of almost love
comes to her
every now and then.
she swims upstream
kicking her small feet,
one arm over the other
while he waits on the shore
for her with a cold drink
in hand, a blanket to
keep her warm. trying
still to win her over
with what he thinks she
needs. trying to say
the right things, but
knowing all along.
it won't last. the only
mystery being would be
the first to leave.