(no subject)
Click to viewAhh, Poetess,You've come to my bedside once again.To brush my forehead lovingly.
To coo to me the soothing amaranthine song
I can often scarcely remember--even as I close my eyes very tight
asking the wind to remind me.
You've come to me again;
And all I have for you
is fat roaches scurrying across the berber carpet
Silent and still telephones
A sink full of dirty dishes
My own organs, day after day, moving one foot in front of the other.
And still, more roaches.
Ahh, Poetess,
How nice it would be to see you on the brighter of my nights
And the more vibrant of my days;
When I am in high spirits,
And all is well in my heart.
But I know,
You come to me only out of necessity.
When you need me.
(I do not resent you)
Or...
Is it when I need you?
I've forgotten which of us is which.
A merger so subtle and yet complete that I often forget you--so much a part of my person.
And yet not. So much a part of me-- just like them all.
But no, you are
So much a part of me
that you are more me
than myself.
Tonight we wrote together:
I don't know how much of me is me--and how much of me is you...
Or you...
Or you...
Or you.
Ah, Poetess--
It's you they all love.
(Although I'm unsure which of us - if either - is the shadow side)
If but for a short moment.
I do hope it is love.
Today I buried my Great Grandmother
for the second time.
A woman 30 feet away watered the grave of her son.
I was reminded to be kind
To remember that all that matters is
How much good you can do
How much you can love other people
And help them
Selflessly
That means neither of us, Poetess.
That means both of us. Together sometimes.
