Analogous apologies
searing my eyes shut,
but you cannot hide from me,
I can still see you across a wounded
void. And on the harsh winter wind I can
faintly hear my eulogy, the minister so
eloquent in his delivery of the perfect epilogue
to a life who’s opening slipped ages before.
I should have known that we were momentary,
that a house with a white picket fence was too
much to ask. Concealed in the weeping shadows,
running from me, eluding me, it doesn’t want me.
And you never saw it either, a ventriloquist’s words
prancing from your beautiful mouth. How I miss
that mouth . . . those eyes . . . but it doesn’t matter,
I just carve one more mark to symbolize one more
lost and try to bury the scars because
you all just don’t understand.

That cloud suspended overhead will be me,
consider me when you see it, but don’t
feel too down, I’m free and glad and
that’s all I ever wanted.
But it was just too much to ask.

08/29/2001

Posted on 07/23/2005
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