No matter—I’ve seen them, through a lazy cloud stream.
I’ve left them—taken by dreams—oh the swiftness they teach,
Away from you, your vow of silence—faced towards the sea.
On a clear day you can hear it—love—clogging my veins,
Coursing like a deep blue snake, then turns to sugar and gleams
In the light. Not much out here but lamps and hunger pains.
Then you, constricting your lips ‘neath the sycamore tree.
My bones grow heavy—thoughts of red-brick anchors—marriage—
Little geniuses, monologues with Mother’s mouth; tucked in bed.
How miserable the horses would have been to pull our carriage,
Faced towards the sea—dumb and dull for all eternity.
God, it came to this! It came to this sweet friction of hell—
Damp electricity, my bravery led to the void, my daily dread.
It’s clear, we’re here—we’re fading—it won’t end well.
Unless I disappear—or say that we will never be.
I cannot keep you, shrink you, put you in a music box,
Though your voice still haunts the carnival of night.
I cannot chew through your licorice gates, your gumdrop locks—
So long as I am sick with you and you are sick of me.
So I’ve kept you in the open—a trophy?—a token of the sun,
Shining and turning away—laughter of unbearable delight.
Concerned phone call. 'I would never hurt anyone.'
And it’s true, you’re as harmless as a tender tsunami.
I have built endless bridges and laid them before you:
Ignored, toppled into rubble—next season, restored—
Kisses of river sparked beneath, soon out of them grew
The heavy, resolute roots of a great sycamore tree.
Now I’ve thrashed and wailed and wrung this all I can.
You’re a big pretender—I’m getting bored.
I’ll say it so I’ve said it so I’ll never say it again:
No us for the future, we will never be.
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