I so often asked you this. What do you remember? Even in the earliest making – Tell me what you remember. You answered once, and said I remember every day. You told me that you remembered every day. This sentence was the safest place you ever took me, a lighthouse gleam in the dark. TheContinue reading “Lighthouse”
I know you don’t watch me walk away. I know you don’t press your forehead against the double glass to keep me in your sight. There is no straining for that one last look, no time suspended in the final unblinking stare. You don’t stay with me until I am just another city glow fadingContinue reading “I know you don’t watch me walk away (remember)”
There is absence and then there is this. The silent, suspended presence. The way the saxophone mourns on my favourite song. The hundred little ways you stay. They said there would come an easier time, the scientists and the lovers too. But it doesn’t heal a thing, you know. I suspect it merely drives it deeper. Time does notContinue reading “The scientists and the lovers too”
I’m sorry she said, as she let him go. I couldn’t love you any more.
You exist as the darkest blue river on the map to my heart. You have been both the source and the flow for me. You have traveled my pathways, wandered all through my terrain, trapped in nerve and vein from the first time we touched. The feel of my own skin is now the memoryContinue reading “Map”
For once, the words won’t come. Just this feeling of clouds lifted. Vivid blue and sharper air. The burnished light of morning, new. And here I am, rising.
Was my calm sorrow that of an addict who knows – every resistance is temporary?
I do not miss you more on Valentine’s Day. In the profusion of reds and intact hearts you are no more absent than you ever were. (I do not miss you in the language of calendars and clocks – in the birthdays and the Christmas mornings and the ten-nine-eights of New Years Eve) I missContinue reading “I do not miss you more on Valentine’s Day”
The Memory of Stars Maggie I am watching the coffee stain my fingers as you lie dying in the gravel. It is a morning of bright blue promise. The breakfast show host is laughing at his own joke, and I smile at the television without hearing the punch line. Next up a story on howContinue reading “The tragedy of our ending”
Joe. Did Ben ever cheat on Anna? Your brother has been back every night this week. Bringing me wine and fresh flowers each time he visits. He spends these hours by my side, we sit facing forward as we speak. Words coming easier now, revelations and little stories we trade. Some things danced around, butContinue reading “I used to say it better”