Friday 9/19/2008 11:54:00 PM

Pale dramas angle his face. Her stubbornness bisects his cheeks. Hard triangles butt the circle, but cannot break in. She wears the bed in layers. Long sequences of calculation that tell her where she is. was.

going.

the memoir of a word on each eyelid. Eyes stay open. So no one can see. What she's said. the voice on the page whispers that they're all lying.

She undresses. In fits of insomnia. The hours counting her. Forward and back. No ends. Just telling the dark to wait. Come back again later. When her pockets are empty.

And these linens are clean.

It would be obvious. That I had been gone. The missing wrinkles in his brow. The dark half full. With speculations about how I found myself after all our years apart. The ladder in his stare assuming I would be tempted. To go that high.

Falling as well as I do.

In my search.

For the bottom.

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