Where have I been? Dreams of Florida, going down in stormy seas. We who never get past the book cover. Faint voices urging us to song without clarifying the words.
How much I have lost.
First night in weeks without rain I walk to the river and look for the moon among shiny silver stones. Going all the way under. Look at the bookmarks still all where we left them!
We want what is down below but we are unskilled at descending invisible stairs. Trumpets, hallways, preachers and other things prayer can fill with wind. Married a quiet woman and at a late juncture - nearing the orchard gate - grateful.
In my mind, the sun streams through maple trees at the foot of a hill on the other side of a river I am not afraid to cross.
"Be my Emily Dickinson" has so far not worked as a Valentine. Remember penny candy. Praying the rosary in a plastic chair facing Main Street while it rains.
Paris, London, Munich, Rome. A hill in Ireland surrounded by sheep, smoking with a woman whose name I forget, sunlight on the harbor of my ancestors blinding me to how naked she got and how scared I was of literally everything.
Wanting suffering is a flaw that can be ended. We are together now, like the hangman and his rope. This Love undoing even what I did or didn't do to deserve this Love.
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