I sit.
still; left leather top
and gate closed. far
from earth; ragged
look.
You never reached the door.
You stood outside, faced the sitting room.
Rain beating scars to heavy windows.
A warm fire panting. The couch patting the warm space
you left; your lips
open ajar, as my door,
and down your leg, a line,
a scrawl: love.
To answer an angry growl,
I sang:
“please, two peas!
you left;
don’t go — I’ve a hole in my heart,
you know?”
That exultation: it’s exhausting.
Aghast
An arthritic clicking of the fingers.
I’ve snapped them like crazy.
I’m clicking them now! Like the dog might come to me!?
I could change tempo.
Life by my own beat for a bit.
But
now, now
let’s try to find sanity.
“I’m not just talking to myself. Please, forgive! Listen:
We can’t run away from anger. We’ve got to make peace and be real.”
So look not forlorn, for us:
knee-deep in filth,
chatting and fighting.
Because I liked you.
And you liked me.
A little bit.
Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 8:59 PM UTC
I sit.
still; left leather top
and gate closed. far
from earth; ragged
look.
You never reached the door.
You stood outside, faced the sitting room.
Rain beating scars to heavy windows.
A warm fire panting. The couch patting the warm space
you left; your lips
open ajar, as my door,
and down your leg, a line,
a scrawl: love.
To answer an angry growl,
I sang:
“please, two peas!
you left;
don’t go — I’ve a hole in my heart,
you know?”
That exultation: it’s exhausting.
Aghast
An arthritic clicking of the fingers.
I’ve snapped them like crazy.
I’m clicking them now! Like the dog might come to me!?
I could change tempo.
Life by my own beat for a bit.
But
now, now
let’s try to find sanity.
“I’m not just talking to myself. Please, forgive! Listen:
We can’t run away from anger. We’ve got to make peace and be real.”
So look not forlorn, for us:
knee-deep in filth,
chatting and fighting.
Because I liked you.
And you liked me.
A little bit.
