Anniversary

Its been three years
and thirteen days
since I was ushered onto a train.
Three years
and ten days
since I arrived wide-eyed and unsure
of what to expect
from you.
You have given me all the loves of my life
You and your cursed well water.
The beautiful blond, I was his
first kiss
and first lay;
The dashing pirate, I was his
last wench
before the hanging;
The strangely exotic half-Irish half-Iranian, who was
too controlling, and treated me like
his pet, but I
Endured because I loved him more
than I understood.
Now there is him ---
brooding ocean-eyed cellist with a
penchant for violent sex
and pizza rolls.
I have loved them all,
Love them still.
But not as I love you,
Olympia.
Even if my love is shown mostly through drunken shouts of
"Fuck you!" and tear-soaked pillows.
I've learned from you,
if only that you are not big enough
to make me feel small.
I miss Manhattan every day:
the noise, the bustle
the neverending traffic, the smell;
But you have shown me stars,
the brief love of poets,
midnight harbors,
and cold water.
You have shown me if you want to get something done,
you have to do it
yourself.
This is your warning, Olympia.
We don't have much time left.
The rose of our love is beginning to wilt.
One more year and I am leaving you
like I left Manhattan.
But don't weep
for me
like she did.
You're just not marriage material;
You always knew this day would come.