Story

Dark eyebrows
dark eyes 
attention inward-turned
to the fume of your own mind,

gaze unseeing at the jerk
your head's 
restlessness.  You seethe.

Thinning hair, all worn
from too much life's wind
pushing.

Today 
you were lucid - had rare but present
moments of attention
that absorbed what I said -
no deflection -

but the body contours do it, satisfy
my aesthetic eye, that cheat that
lures me in to pain and no-win men.

'If it makes you happee' you sing
forehead pressed against mine
'you're stoned, Suzanne, stoned' you intone

foreheads pressed as if our minds
could meet and touch
not having to divine

what lies beneath the skin -
living membrane of a heart
that might just exist, but then again ...

and you: perplexed at my sadness
and I: have kissed for less, and did -
that fetching field
filled with you entirely.  I yield.

Now, on this mundanity, Tuesday:
I lie abed
and listen to her voice singing
place, arm, back, hair, your face,
your stance -
us together 
stoned there.



I look askance 
at my recklessness -
youth arrived too late
for I know that you'll not stay -
uncapturable man -
distraction subtracts 
what's real and true

diminishes experience 
to shades and shallows -
you paste your room with pound notes
and smoke it out
and suck it in
jabbering your life away -
the dregs of sin
swallowed 
easily.

O smoke-filled room, O child-like one,
I see your paper weight, hold it in my hand,
lightness, no solidity,
love you anyway

stretch a touch
I know
you will ignore.

Captivation happens 
unwarranted but real
and I bind me to
your rough life, free
all me, all mine, the pure
feel of it
cracking

and bide my time
apprehensive at your daze
know you'd show me life
new eyes
new ways -

my innocency I test
my good heart
the best I know

hopes 
I rub-off
on you:
lowest of the low.

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