Perception

 

I am
a question mark written
on the pages of your life.

You are
a melodic song
I will hum on lonely days.

We are a question,
a melody forever playing ~
water to thirsting strangers,
food glorious to starving men.

I am a child dancing
too close to the fire.
You are a roaring flame
licking the edges of my soul.

February 2011

hey, Skate, maybe

We did better with
the telephone, pressed
tightly, ear to ear, voices
moving through invisible
lines in space without
the chaos of real, live
person-to-person
dialogue . . . because
illusions are easier
to believe in darkness
with voices whispering
in your ear all you want
to believe and need to
believe because it can’t
be seen to be anything
other than the illusion
of truth and hope and
maybe . . .
We did better with
the telephone, pressed
tightly, ear to ear, voices
are much safer when heard
through the telephone
lines in space without . . . you
near me.