She gave me a poem a bout wiper blades,
tucked it right up under my own on the driver's side
a too cute, if not subtle tale about how her wiper blades had
fallen in love with each other, But it wouldn't work
because they would come together and then flee apart...perpetually when activated.
What was she trying to tell me?
That love and relationships were like sisyphus...?
condemned to tempt with intimacy and then separate in an instant?
Or did she have something else in mind,
something that would take a lifetime to learn?
Windshields crack, wiper blades do too,
Relationships split but linger long after the parts
wear out.
Personal observations of one writer. Frequent references to pop culture, blues music and lifetime truths.
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