For
what seemed like forever
and was perhaps
some lost sand
sifting through light
slower when observed
turning like eager sun dial
face capturing shape and shadow
as the moon faced women
blue in Picasso’s rough brush
your edges sleek impossibly
by Masters deft curve, mimicking
nature readily, surely as time will
erode the fullness of our cheeks
your high bones hold you up
that half smile imperceptable
through memory shaking her
coat free of rain drops
as we drift further into long night.
I recall being good at Tug of War
in school with my artex white shirt rolled up
the thin fabric of my skirt flapping
dangerously high, leaning in for the pull
boys on the other end heaving, purposing
(this was always about more than a rope you know)
their extraordinary need to dominate and
our quiet, tugging urgency to defy
even then I might have upset the historical balance
made you proud, if you’d been watching
the length of rope dipping into glassy water
with the weight of decades, days spent
trying to form words of consolation where none
seem worthy enough.
You have slim bones that cannot pull heavy
rope from weighted oceans and even if
your arms were strong, I wonder if you would
gather me to you, within the eye of rushing storm
our fragile satellites eclipsing, resolving
sorrow with gentle grace, unleavened bread
yet to rise
to feel your perfumed palm on my forehead
the beneficence of your gaze, or hear
your voice, its sonorous depths, call for
me and gladly, I would present myself
for any time in your light is time lived
well and good and whole.
in your absence there is only
shadow and cold
reminding me, estrangement is unnatural
when it pares two segments of the same orange
apart, with no mend, balm or eulogy
great enough to salve the hurt
building within us, mountains of
dried salt from spent regret grown
dry.
I long and shall always long
to return to you
in that hour where memory
tells me
we laughed and
in your eyes I saw
my center
verdant and blooming
with the tender cobalt nectar
reserved for what can never
be replaced.