the woman surprises,
bids me an eye~closing adieu
just a tad differently,
as I fall off into easy street,
the "sleep perchance to dream" place

she whispers a parting thought,
a quiet shot cross the brow
marking up my transference,
a hole-punched in my
departure and entrance ticket,
a line crossing, a seed freshly buried,
for my sub-mind to ruminate upon

"I am very fond of you"

puzzling this, for is this
as good as,
the pro forma
"love you"?
a lesser conditional,
a solutional mystery?

a diminution, a new dialect,
a dialectical proposition,
a homework assignment,
needy for exposition, exploration,
what means this phrase,
tween long time lovers?

I have written love poems, t'is true,
but never audacious enough
to market them as
true love poems,
too many, done before, no need,
trite indeedy, what sonnet expertise
had long ago,
youth lost

but here comes a
commentaire, remarque,
answered though unasked,
on the subject of

true fond

there are many you love
just because,
just cause,
just the effect,
of being
blood kith and kin,
or kindnesses memories from long ago,
that cannot be pushed aside,
buried in fogged cemetery dirt forgetfulness

but by now,
know clear,
just where,
I'm going here...

you can be fond of someone,
and bon mot, sweet,
need not love them,
but you, hero,
stand back and
grasp this commotional notion

you can't just love,
cross over the river
from like to can do,
that other thing,
until, unless, you
ease onto the vessel of you
into the deeps of
true fond
and take away with you,
until heart and soul now veneered,
a no rust
coating,
impenetrable

that place, that feel
where and when
the affection is infectious,
the tender is unreasonable,
the cherishing downright excessive,
the savor is a favor to oneself,
the giving instinctual,
the taking victuals
not so tasty or important

where you feel
way past the point of foolishness...
and then and only then,
with this
necessary condition,
take the rudder
be the pilot

do/if you think you can  
goodnight say,
get off/get away
with the perfunctory
eroded by time,
"whatever"

then kid,
you don't ken
true fond,
the  cornerstone, the found base,
the reality of where edges blur,
where what you feel
is like first bite of
tea and morning-warm buttered toast,
making one think
this is the way it
ought to feel...every moment,
salty n' sweet, smiley-face grinning
heat,
true fondness