1/30/09

Farewell to TIBU

Long, drawn-out sighs
Loop our lives together.
Moments of despair,
Thoughts of tired anguish,
Indifference,
Condensing the air between us.

It is in the shadows of a darkened room
That I find the differences
Between who you believe yourself to be,
And who I know I am.

You are the quill pen, green and gray ink,
Who scratches out harsh thoughts
Between your thighs and across my back.
Your nib places your words
Into flesh and composing sweat.

I smudge single syllables
In the language of loins
And sobbing mouths
Across my face for all to see,
Using fingertips
And my own blood.

It is only in those repeated moments,
Those fleeting seconds,
That our far flung sentences find each other.
We become the same writer
With different diction
Writing on a snow bank,
Waiting for Spring.

2 comments:

  1. Spring? So the farewell is only temporary?
    I think we are all linked in cyberspace. I haven't quite figured out how to use this site fluidly, and, I have less time now...but, I love to be a part of it.

    Thanks for sharing your poem.

    Dr-J

    ReplyDelete