Three thirty AM

You held back tears as you began to remember the people before.
They all came and went.
Some stopped at the gift shop browsed around but found nothing of interest.
Some stole items from your shop, took off running and never said a word.
I hold you close.
But you weep harder.
You say, ‘I’ve never known a love like yours,’ and ‘no one has ever said the things you say, about me.’
I just sit quietly, listening to your shaky voice.
It’s hard to picture not falling in love with you.
Everything you are.
You invited me to your gift shop.
I helped you pick up some receipts thrown on the floor.
I helped you restock vacant items, cash out isle drawers.
I did that for you.
You never asked but I wanted to.
I ask ‘has anyone ever made love to you?’
And suddenly your store roof begins to leak.
The pipe is broken and water flows out.
The shelves begin to shake.
‘No.’ You say.
I run for buckets to catch the leak,
I grab a mop and begin damage control.
You begin putting up signs.
Closed, come back later, closed due to insufficient love.
I scramble to save this store.

*similar to my last poem, they were both written the same night.