Sunday 5/11/2008 01:49:00 AM

Dominoes deciding whether to fall. The giant clinging to the vine. In bare combustibles. Love is a target. We just random throws of darts.

I was looking back in time. Seeing it look at me. In years that had already happened. Still no truth emerging from the fates we'd shared.

I was casting spells. Working the magic of the timeline. Pieces of tomorrow spilling into my potions. The paradox blossoming into somewhere new.

We were creating each other. In places neither of us had been. High on the drug of missing ghosts. Crippled hearts that walk. Only to return to the graves they never saw dug. Bodies. Corpses on the edges of the decision that would make this timeline stick.

There are so many others that would be better, but this is the one that I want.

Alone.

Wearing tomorrow against my thighs in whispers of when. Time was still some place we had in common.

The little lies time tells to make us happen. All the ways in which we never do.

1 comments:
Cynthia said...

this poem is beautiful on an
almost hidden level to me...
a love poem to another and more
important to oneself...
an echo of a life - a continuation
of a deep mystery.

"wearing tomorrow against my thighs in a whisper of when"



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