sirM's profile

These words regard the past, reach backward for a beginning something once a stagnant room of antiquated things an armoir with a door that will not close dust on a window that will not open a lover, bare naked, spawled out for you images shrilling through the mind with chains as through a Victorian house wailing in white calling for a place in the present. A part of you is dead talking already as in a dream spilling out of the mind but not like water or wine from a piece of broken stemware. T...

These words regard the past reach backward for a beginning something once a stagnant room of antiquated things an armoir with a door that will not close dust on the window that will not open your lover, bare naked, waiting for you images shrilling through the mind with chains as through a Victorian house wailing in white calling for a place in the present. A part of you is dead already talking as in a dream spilling out of the mind but not like water or wine from broken stemware. The words ar...

I I liked it especially when the light from the terrace doors shone through the space between your legs II I stretched out on the bed observing, waiting for you, a woman who tasted like almond III Warmth as joy, a discombobulating thought. Should a man thank God? Does combobulating exist? IV And what is it to finish with a wish? To hold you now, as I once did, To show you, again, that we shared love.

I I liked it especially when the light from the terrace doors shone through the space between your legs II I stretched out on the bed observing, waiting for you, a woman who tasted like almond III Warmth is joy, a discombobulating thought. Should a man thank God? Does combobulating exist? IV And what is it to finish with a wish? To hold you now, as I once did, To show you, again, that we shared love.

We thought alike. When I wanted to row, you wanted to ride And we would embark in your canoe when the lake was calm to enjoy the sunset. A young boy cannot know what a grandmother imagines. An eight year old thinks about steering straight Pushing into the water a paddle until splash after splash leads back to home. We always talked. But goodbye is a thing fully gone. I cannot think of a single conversation. Through gentle ripples, through reflected sunshine, My mind goes no further, surprisin...