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Black and White

by Betania Tesch

Yet another J. P. Klotz collaboration. This one had more hidden lines between our sections...it came out interestingly.



I carry you with me.
You are not visible--not even a scar/smile/birthmark/tattoo,
but you are in me--somewhere veins connect.

Yet connection does not suffice
and we are losing more blood each day
in the loose manner of our akward conversations.
Things keep unraveling and tying to each other
weaving their way back in to form something...
something strange and obscure--something comforting.

I thrive on the slaloming through obstacles
and you wait for the randoms joys.
It seems a compromise is in order, but I am a black and white girl.
You'll just have to ignore the smoky eyeshadow, the lisptick.
You'll have to ignore the confidence--
I still bump into myself in the dark and bruise me.

I still tie me down to bedposts and wait for pleasure and slip down the curving letters of my rhetoric,
waiting on the revival of my non-existant but needed deity.
A crutch! A crutch. Yes point, point.
Nah, I don't need it, I could crawl.
I shall crawl. Yes that will bring the desired effect.

And you will laugh, spewing psychology
through your nose like chocolate milk
and I find myself hoping it will stick and you will choke.
But that never was like you, was it? Was it?
and I never can get hold of that thing to send you
flying into speechless and ugly truth.

But the truth is never ugly
when reality brings justice
because the final court is the knowledge of existence.

02/02/2002

Posted on 02/02/2002
Copyright © 2024 Betania Tesch

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