Between the two of us
Summer and hope and grief and change
But fortune favors the brave:
We could meet, another place and time
We’re not as we once were
He is better than I remember.
Material form, smell and taste
Do not exist in digital, memory
His locksmith mind opens doors
I did not remember I had; where I’d left the tools for the windy shaking crush of This
Oh, but being good
Being vague
Being hollow for The Other One
Who is now just one
No-mind, no heart
We are as true as the lies we tell
We are as good as the blood we spill
When I finally see him, peeking from the cover of my hiding pillar,
I know that desire is the key to a longer life
Waiting weeksdayshoursminutes
wherein time is unglued
deconstructed
without its steam train rhythm
We both of us lived several years
See his face, touch his hands
Try to will ourselves into one
In the background, somewhere
Baggage
does a slow circuit
Lights flash
Alarms sound
But inside our small world: shaking, touching, imploding
An old man walks by, and is kind enough not to mention
The fog of desire that chokes us
Why is it I suddenly want to make out with someone? (p.s. God, Mokels, that was stunning.)
ReplyDeleteMany revisions later, it emerges, still on shaky legs but walking.
ReplyDeleteI feel like making out too. Also, I really enjoyed this poem. very beautiful!
ReplyDeleteMokes. Moookes. Goddamn it, will you look at my ass? That boot print is yours. Why'd you have to kick me so hard? Well, because you had to. And I loved it.
ReplyDeleteThis was not kidding for one minute. Looking forward to your next contribution.
P.S. I'll make out with all y'alls right this second. Meet me right here.