Undressing in darkness, slipping into bed, always the sense of settling into warm seas. Clocks were never allies, they only pretended to be. Where did my first guitar go?
Roasting steaks over hot coals, dusk after a long day hiking and swimming, you passing me a mason jar of cool mint tea, both of us naked, summer after the wedding. We all love minnows, I mean mirrors. In the ribcage of the whale, the initials of those who survived a difficult journey.
Antique barrel staves. Bird nests, Buddha grins. Something is getting easier but what exactly?
Psychology was manageable, a way of navigating both language and what language pointed to without losing time to write poems. The far hills lighten as morning passes, which is a sign of something, an answer almost. She used to bring me free coffee, sit and smoke between customers, ask what I was writing.
The one who understands. Making coffee without my glasses in the dark, not blind exactly but knowing the way without bringing sight into it. Corpses never become lovely and the world is a corpse, it is your corpse, please stop playing this reckless unwinnable game.
Mare’s tails drifting slowly away from us. Low tide was best, I went a long way alone, surrounded by pretty rocks and animals nobody could make me kill. Boyish but not bereft?
How bright the room becomes when one begins the final elision! A song on my lips no god or goddess taught me.
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