Too Late.

something about the way

you said

"you know you can always stay here if it gets too late"

just hit differently

it was already too late

creeping up on 4 a.m.

when the birds are beginning to stir

and the worms are beginning to panic

I was just heading home

and is that not already too late?

I'd felt it, too—

the way you held the hug a little too long

the softness in your eyes

when you said goodnight

but it was too late for goodnight,

was it not?

the clock had switched days

and it was now morning

but you’d given up your chance at that

long ago

it was too late for us to go back

to change course

and it was too late

for you to ever be the one

to let the words “good morning”

tumble lazily out of your lips

as you rolled to my side of the bed

but if it was already too late—

then why does it feel as if you're standing here

begging me to stay?

and why do I feel tempted to put my car keys away?