I haven’t found, or fallen, for her yet;
but then again, maybe I’d walked a block too far.
Maybe I’d crossed clay.
Maybe I’d sunk like a madman atop thin ice.
Maybe I’d forgotten as easily as I’d found,
when the treasure’s a fickle little smear of red-lipstick
and digits atop my mirror;
Mobius just a’gazin’ come mornin’
to the tune of tequila slipping lip
a mere moment and conundrum’s later,
always remembered,
always encountered and eternal,
pursued atop the medium as fragile as I.
And speaking of pass or impasse,
I still crawl from a tether towards tomorrow,
approaching a promise,
oh so fragile and soon to be broken like mother’s cookie jar
amidst thievery;
A tall tale and titled,
“one more enigma,”
when she’s passed and parallel,
“the,” way or beyond away,
in the car that’s to the left and now left behind,
or an image I’d once recalled –
Now masticated,
the years,
alone atop a mammoth pile and like an elephant’s carcass,
ivory and soon to be rust.
So yearns the watering hole of youth and never to visit again;
An offered solution and her parting wave,
a sincerity long gone over horizon.
I mull and move come this bravest venture,
sooner to be,
asp,
dung,
and maggot.
Futile when you call me,
“Oblivion.”
I guess I’ve got a lot to explain.
I guess I’ve grown to use to the noose,
aged,
forgotten,
and so very senile,
the foolish.
And I guess, ******!
I guess, oh hell!
And guess I’m sorry for leaving when I had,
where I had,
how I had and more importantly who I had.
I guess,
fleeing from forever atop epoch.
I guess,
I guess,
I guess I’m breaking far more than I’d ever been broken.
And I'd guess, never knowing.
I guess and I’d become the hammer I’d ‘ever agonized –
She guessed –
And the house yawped,
“VICTORY!”
Again,
as I rest twisted metal and in a state of parched,
becoming the elephant seeking his first watering hole;
My dearest hope,
you'd still be there.
*When the thirst of one kind destroys the thirst of another kind.
