There was a second story
that I wanted to tell you
but it seems to be
at present
escaping me.
I am at a loss
as to what it was
that just a moment ago
seemed so important
that it couldn’t wait.
I needed you to know about…
my ankle?
My first pet?
Was it about the coed that once smiled at me?
I’m sure
I told you about that one already.

It seems like
you might have heard all my stories
good and bad
interesting and
less interesting.
I think you know my punchlines
my turns of phrase
the ways I might
zag to the zig of a conclusion.
I might be out of experiences
to inform you of.

Did I tell you about Paris?
Penelope?
How I loved the Poseidon Adventure?
What could be possibly left to say?

Maybe it’s time
to stop retelling the past
and begin living out some new adventures
of our own
if you’d be so willing
to do so with me.
If so
I think I might know
the next tale I could tell.