And now you like simple girls
When I already combed my hair
Like the way your former girls do

When I already painted my lips
Like how the roses would bloom
In rows in the fields

When I already dressed myself
With how the pretty girls do

When I already turned into something
Your senses have been looking for

"I like simple girls"
And I never got the irony
Turned myself into someone I don't know
Because now, right in this moment

*You like simple girls...

ACQUAINTANCE; companion;
One dear brilliant woman;
The best-endowed, the elect,
All by their youth undone,
All, all, by that inhuman
Bitter glory wrecked.
But I have straightened out
Ruin, wreck and wrack;
I toiled long years and at length
Came to so deep a thought
I can summon back
All their wholesome strength.
What images are these
That turn dull-eyed away,
Or Shift Time's filthy load,
Straighten aged knees,
Hesitate or stay?
What heads shake or nod?

You question me with insipid candor
As though it was worth an answer
Repeat the same deeds with silver tongue
A talented, insolent dancer
Do you not see the ripples and wakes
The wan smiles pasted on your son's face
Reflect just once on your mistakes
The painful sound your cadence makes
Crashing like waves as it's always been

I am forced to wayward roam alone
To receive my only splendor as obscene
I am cursed to despise anything my own
Until only perspective renders me clean
The strength within is all I've sought
Through years of patience finally bought
Destroyed in a second with one wrong thought
So I hold fast to what my numb heart has wrought
Wash away, and never let you in

Perhaps one day you'll breach the shore
As a man who relishes in serendipity
Abandoning everything else for whom he values more
Who trades an ocean of isolation for an epiphany
But until you know a man from a mouse
Until you know a lover from a spouse
Not until you know a child from a louse
Until then I'll be waiting for you at the lighthouse
*Waiting to call you Dad again

This place gets old
Stained walls,
Broken roads..
Surrounded, crowded..
Still, familiar..
Only familiar
Something's different
The scent?
The people? You?
Ah, No more you...

Your walk,
How you look..
More certain..
Different from what I've known
Is it change?
Is it the clock?
That keeps ticktocking
And every tick is a step
Taking you away
Far from me..

Time changes everything
Wait, no, no..
Time leads us..
To 'who we're suppose to be'
We don't change..
In process of getting to know
We discover,
This life
This place
Ourselves.

No, that’s not how it goes.
Start again.
Do you remember the tree on the lake?
It was a forest.
No, it was black, like tar. It tasted like broken glass.
I remember the incense on the drapes.
Yes. It clung to our clothes.
You cried.
No, I smiled.
You cried smiling.
Yes.
I hate it when this happens.
What happens?
You know?
No.
Um. Sometimes it feels like the world is too crowded with words. Like it's too dense to speak.
That--
Like there’s something in the air that pushes against my throat.
There was a black dog, just then.
What?
Outside. It’s gone now. Sorry. Start again.
Do you remember the tree on the lake?
There was a raven.
Yes.
It was black like tar.
It caught a worm once.
Ravens don’t eat worms.
Yeah. It just sat there, with the worm in its beak. The worm squirmed, wrapping itself round the beak, over and over.
Is that why you were crying?
It wouldn’t stop. It kept going, digging its flesh deeper into the edges.
What was your father doing?
Smiling.
Why?
He’d filed for a divorce earlier.
Right. I wasn’t there.
No, you weren’t.
Do you regret locking the doors?
Sometimes I can taste the rain before it comes. It’s a skill I’ve had for as long as I can remember.
I’m lost. So your father was smiling?
No, he was crying.
Sorry. I swear I just--nevermind. Start again.
There was a storm in these parts when we were young. The worst storm in a hundred years.
I don’t remember.
You slept through it. I held your hand all night.
Why?
Because I was alone.
You still are.
Yes.
I hate it when this happens.
What happens?
You know?
Yes.
Where have you been?
Everywhere but here.
And where will you go?
Nowhere.
Sometimes when I look at you, it’s like looking through static. It’s like I’m looking at an impression of a person.
I get that a lot.
It’s like all my memories of you have blurred together. Vague feelings rise out of the haze. Feelings I recognise, yet cannot describe. I cannot connect them with who you are, what we were, or where we’ve been. It’s--
Like exiting a dream.
Yes. Exactly.
You feel a gap in your soul. One that has always been.
Always been. You held my hand, once.
During the worst storm in a hundred years.
When was that?
Every night.

when I came home I laid
with all my clothes on
sinking into my bed
then fell asleep

it was comforting
being held by cotton
for the night
it reminded me of you

everyday I have slept
in these clothes
that I don’t like

because they remind me
of how your blankets
hugged my hips
and your velvet hands
touched my skin

I’ve slept in my clothes
every night since then
and now it has
become a habit
I’m not really
reminded
of you
anymore