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A kind of Fiction…
Love Does Not Win
Eses and Excerpts
The Poems
TV EYE
DIFFICULT
TO
CURE
July 6, 2019
until kingdoms come
Tainted dreamscapes and
the letters you never sent
dissipate upon awakening
Your silence has been the loudest;
the echoes of what was left unsaid
Hurt the most in the spaces
I was holding for you
We were both lost when we met
We were both unlovable when we fell
Afraid and screaming as the day we were born
We were both lost when we parted ways
about to close the distance
Between the wounds
that kept us separate
And hiding from each other
To begin with
I am still sitting across from you
In a den of gypsies
some elusive unknowable clan
known for wandering
and not growing roots
for hosting circuses and being loyal
to cursed families
with their magnetic inexplicable
spells entire
I’m there rubbing my head
Trying to think
of something clever to say
to get you to love me
again
It’s a dream and when I wake up
nothing’s changed
you are whispering for me
to wake up but
I don’t’ want to
I don’t want to wake up
Will you wake me up?
Will you
Will you please
Not much has changed,
here I am, there I was
always pining and praying
still fidgeting with a napkin
stomach growling and muttering aloud
How I want a burger
How our names were writ by you
in crayon on butcher paper
impaled with arrows
encircle in a bruised heartshape
With us
smiling against the waves
the storm and
the odds.
That time we slow danced
On an ocean precipice
Near a midnight shore
Like the guy in the movie
afflicted with neurological deficits
stuttering and stammering
ridden with tics and hopelessly slipping
back into the void familiar
the one that swallowed him
when he was a child
and on the eve of the rest
of his life
that sweet girl he met amidst
the upheaval and uncertainty
she pulls him toward her in the elevator
his tics subside
and tremors quell
he can stammer no more
he can’t tell her to
go away
And the sway is their rhythm
she can read him
because no one else
sees what he wrote
in the movie he’s slipping backwards
lacks the words anymore
She holds him and he surrenders
burrows his face in the nape of her neck
the tremors subside and the terror dissipates
the way I felt that day
at the gardens
as
“Memories of Alhambra”
poured mellifluous
It was the last day on earth
I remember smiling
The first day of my life
I knew what it meant
to be still
And doubt
nothing
Not much has changed,
I’m still flawed and swimming
my secrets are yours
they are just under the surface
I am waiting for something to happen
wishing that I was enough
They decline and say,
you’re a bit much
I don’t’ say anything
I go back home and roll
around on the floor
and tell him the story and sometimes
I write
Sometimes
I bleed
Most times
I fall back asleep
Where I can see you
again.
In my dreams I won the war for your heart
They’re all secretly jealous
That wild horses couldn’t drag us apart
how we loved
how we were a way
They could never be
When I wake up, the dream falls
Your silence my enemy
nightmare and echo
You’re still racing home
To your laundry
what a shame, what a waste
what time is it
I think I have to go
meet someone
are you
going to be there?
I’ll be waiting, I’ll be wanting
I’ll be wishing
until kingdoms come
I’m tired and it’s raining
I want you to hold me
tell me the story
of how we came to be
how someone rescued me
the way you did me
how I never found someone to love
because it couldn’t be you
about how they woke us up
to tell us
it wasn’t true.
-2019
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