NOBODY BUT YOURSELF

(Timothy Brickley & David Rheins)

Don’t know what was real, or care to remember

eyes of slate grey, cool like September

leaves and the howl of the wind on the window to warn you.

We just don’t connect, don’t have that feeling of

being at ease but there’s something compelling

that makes you believe in a bond beyond what we’re knowing.

She broke character between acts two and three.

For a second, I felt it might be for me.

   You don’t know why it is that I want.

   You don’t know how it feels when I kiss.

   You don’t know if I’m true.

   You don’t know.

What’s important to you, the touch, or the feeling?

She gives me an answer I remember believing

it wasn’t the right one, but I couldn’t answer either.

What do you want? And why do you want her?

Because she won’t love you and probably never will

end up undone by the charm of your surface or hurt by what you hide there?

For a second, I thought it might be for me.

I was painfully happy, I was happily deceived.

   You don’t know why it is that I want.

   You don’t know how it feels when I kiss.

   You don’t know if I’m true.

   You don’t know nobody but yourself.

Walking alone, the streets now empty.

Think of her smile there as she left.

Never forget, she said, who you were with the night I met you.

It was nobody.

Nobody but yourself.

  You don’t know how it feels when I kiss.

  You don’t know why it is that I want.

  You don’t know nobody but yourself.

                                                      Copyright 1988 Timothy Brickley & David Rheins