Put the hand down (walk away)

I was stumbling through the dark to find you,
Someone to hold me, to wash away my fear,
To tell me it was all right, and don’t be lonely,
Honey, don’t be scared, baby, don’t be, don’t.
I was sad by myself, with no comfort but my
Dog, my Great Dane, my Bucky, for affection,
For companionship, for friendship, for someone
To talk to, but dogs, they don’t talk, and
They don’t have anything to say, but love you
Unconditionally, and in the end, are pets and
Not companions you can love and cherish.
I met you when you bumped my coffee,
Spilling hot, brown liquid on me, burning
Skin (but not severely), and when we talked,
You touched my hand: all that happened next
Is legend, you spoke to me, I spoke to you,
And sometimes when at work, we’d phone call,
Little bitty conversations, pet names, rendezvous,
Plans and actions, after months, we shared
I love yous, I let you into my life; you let me
Into yours, and that’s the way it was, lovely,
Sharing company, pleased as punch, that
Elusive happy ending adults don’t believe in:
I was stumbling through the dark to find you,
And suddenly, magically, there you were,
Cold, and sticky, and somehow in several
More pieces than I remember you being in,
And spread out more as well. Sometimes Bucky
Gets into my stuff. No! No! Bad dog! Bad!

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