Reconciliation and the Reasons Why
Since we have slept together
in the shadows and the ash of afternoon
after events evolving at an alarming rate
resulting in the contact of quiet bodies
during daylight’s imminent failure
forthcoming on a foreboding wind;
since we have stumbled alone and occasionally
in mismatched, uncomfortable pairs
along the treacherous course of the walk of shame,
having failed to fit properly into some situation
or perhaps another, or be sufficiently cunning
to disguise shortcomings or an obvious weakness,
felt familial eyes and sensed the disapproval
they strove but failed consummately to contain,
force-fed embarrassment until bursting,
unable to completely fulfill
the current definition of duty;
since we have stumbled arm clutching arm
to the ground along the winding ways
and garden paths along the walk of shame,
leapt into and on but never over
the bushes standing tall and proud,
sentinels at the border overlooking
skinned knees and the promise never
to be such an embarrassment again,
we separate to see clearly,
recalling again and regretting
all errors blossoming into fatal mistakes,
not skilled at prophecy or prediction
but expert in describing the arc of the flame,
the dying star dropping out of existence
summarized and described within seconds
past the last glimmer, the final brilliant spark
contained in all mutual moments;
since we have separated the sense of urgency
has faded, exigence of actions gone,
designing a different phase, an alternate ideal,
affirming and confidently indulging the error,
the waste of what once was precious,
and if letters possess the strength to resolve
such a deeply complex, dangerous issue,
will be again; regret is the will
yearning and lusting for repetition,
in love with the possibility
of returning to common places
filled with precisely the same sense
lingering when our broken bodies left;
since we have slept together in the ash,
the shadows of the afternoon,
no longer learning prideful lessons
(humbled and uncomfortably sane)
but certain of the presence of the other,
leave this life, join me to wed
in a room in a temple
built to honor and celebrate shame,
consecrating all the accidents
facilitating the formation
of the precise situation required to allow
such a connection (as between us) to actually occur,
knowing suddenly coincidences require meticulous planning,
seeing from a certain angle a map of the future
laid out implicitly, an overlay
clinging like web, laced from event to event,
and seduced into acquiescence by caresses;
since meeting this connection has never felt
broken.
9/20/99
Since we have slept together
in the shadows and the ash of afternoon
after events evolving at an alarming rate
resulting in the contact of quiet bodies
during daylight’s imminent failure
forthcoming on a foreboding wind;
since we have stumbled alone and occasionally
in mismatched, uncomfortable pairs
along the treacherous course of the walk of shame,
having failed to fit properly into some situation
or perhaps another, or be sufficiently cunning
to disguise shortcomings or an obvious weakness,
felt familial eyes and sensed the disapproval
they strove but failed consummately to contain,
force-fed embarrassment until bursting,
unable to completely fulfill
the current definition of duty;
since we have stumbled arm clutching arm
to the ground along the winding ways
and garden paths along the walk of shame,
leapt into and on but never over
the bushes standing tall and proud,
sentinels at the border overlooking
skinned knees and the promise never
to be such an embarrassment again,
we separate to see clearly,
recalling again and regretting
all errors blossoming into fatal mistakes,
not skilled at prophecy or prediction
but expert in describing the arc of the flame,
the dying star dropping out of existence
summarized and described within seconds
past the last glimmer, the final brilliant spark
contained in all mutual moments;
since we have separated the sense of urgency
has faded, exigence of actions gone,
designing a different phase, an alternate ideal,
affirming and confidently indulging the error,
the waste of what once was precious,
and if letters possess the strength to resolve
such a deeply complex, dangerous issue,
will be again; regret is the will
yearning and lusting for repetition,
in love with the possibility
of returning to common places
filled with precisely the same sense
lingering when our broken bodies left;
since we have slept together in the ash,
the shadows of the afternoon,
no longer learning prideful lessons
(humbled and uncomfortably sane)
but certain of the presence of the other,
leave this life, join me to wed
in a room in a temple
built to honor and celebrate shame,
consecrating all the accidents
facilitating the formation
of the precise situation required to allow
such a connection (as between us) to actually occur,
knowing suddenly coincidences require meticulous planning,
seeing from a certain angle a map of the future
laid out implicitly, an overlay
clinging like web, laced from event to event,
and seduced into acquiescence by caresses;
since meeting this connection has never felt
broken.
9/20/99
