Cathardic
I cried as soon as she left,
crawled back into a bed
that no longer belongs to me
but to the tyranic reign on her hairs,
her curly locks
that hide
under the folds
of my sheets
and attack me,
and break the damns
of my memories
and remind me of the let go
and of the never had
and of the tiniest moments
of a fleck of eye dust
i was in love
and the last thing said was a question unanswered
the dullness of this affair
is perhaps the most
stinging of all its phasets
now im rebounding
all over this room
on this strangers bed
with a stranger
heavy and rough
the soft skin is gone
and now all i've left is
some gorgeous green eyes
that mean nothing,
and stand for nothing,
and a voice that says nothing
and repeats the word "like" far too often
maya angelou says "profound thinking"
and i burst into tears
and shut this laptop violently
and want to throw it across the room
i miss profound thinking,
i miss my time,
i spent the time,
and the energy,
and the love,
and the giving,
and the thought and the profound
and i got back
got back
experience
one orgasm
one new world of music, sound and dance
every time
the doorbell rings
without want
i hope that it is her
i hope like a housewife
awaiting the return
of a dead husband from the war
in denial and love
and with numbness we answer the door,
and thank the electrician, or the purolator man
like ceramic actresses
something dies a little
every time hope rises and falls
the dead soldier
composting in our hearts