“Now, she says”

Now, she says, it'll be awhile
before I can trust you…again.
As though we had a before
that wasn't languid and dead,
brought to life every so often
by the lapse of absence
and the sickly crowing of a golden cock.
The ever-present now that is vacuous,
filled only with prying eyes
reading drunken e-mails, perusing parking
lots with the glimpse of doubt
casting a blinding glow until speculation
begins to make the most sense.
Everything is naturally in my best interest
and not to feel a completeness
from those earlier errors in life,
those passing aging men from history.
I'll admit to being a broken man
when the sun rises and sets and repeats
if you finally admit your sins are equally human.