Thinning fabric

We broke up the other day, I’m trying to pretend not to notice

Truth to tell we were never really together

I try to recall the times you’ve broken my heart

I’ve let them fade into the fabric of our story

Fabric worn thin by my worrying hands retracing patterns again and again

Trying to commit us to memory

I glance at your piece of our cloth, you’ve cut out bits of us, leaving patches in our truth

I wonder if you remember what it looked like before you erased us

Does your mind recall how beautiful we were?

Threads woven together bright and dark, hazy and shining

Like sun breaking through clouds after a raging storm

These days, you see only the storm, can only take in the chaos

Should your fingers try to retrace us, they’d find holes held together by trivial pieces of our memory

I still see us, breaking boldly through clouds

Weaving our story together with threads of tenderness, laughter and pain

How could you cut us apart?

I’ve kept my piece intact; fingers retrace our history at times lovingly, at times mournful

Feeling always where we’ve thinned out

Our fabric is worn, the time has come to put us away

Tracing patterns once more I fold us up and place us in my dresser, next to old faded sweatshirts of love gone by

What you choose to do with your fabric, I have no say

For my part, I’ll keep mine hidden and safe

Neatly folded and forgotten as we carry on the aimless game we play

We broke up the other day and today, the sun is hidden away

Skies are dark, dreary and grey, contented to stay that way

To the woman ogling us at the bar:

I bet we turn you on

I’m sorry to take it there,

But that’s just how it is

Imagine!

Three queers on a couch

Splayed out across one another

Cuddled, cozy, content

Unafraid of your stare,

Welcoming it even

Something curious

To poke and

Mock and wonder at

We think,

“I wonder what’s hidden beneath it?”

This fluttering stare,

Are you dissatisfied  with your mediocre?

Contemplating

What other roads you wanted to take ?

Were too afraid to take?

Made too many mistakes to make?

Afraid of the fluttering stares

From women and husbands in

Bars and parks

And streets and shops

And hospitals and schools and

Afraid of being beaten into

Submission day after day,

Afraid of a world which tells you,

“You can’t love this way.”

Because society says it should be so

“And that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

Or so they say

Instead, you look across the table

Play with your straw

And wonder

At the life you chose your partner

Sits across from you, guzzling beer

Absently you notice some of it

Miss his mouth

Dribble down his chin onto his shirt

You forgotten, him oblivious

His eyes refuse to part

From the large screen fixed above the bar

You sigh, telling yourself

You’re happy, you’re content,

You have a good life

An old, faded mantra

Your eyes flick back to us

And we think,

I bet we turn you on.

Hazy.


The other night I was sitting at the bar

Talking to a person who I am seeing, but not dating
Because these days, that actually makes a difference

We were talking about the space in between
Where thoughts happen and where they occur

What I mean is, the thought that inspires the thing
And the place where that thing becomes itself

Which is the truth?
Where is the truth?

The truth is in the space between

Which we will never fully grasp
Never quite see or catch
Hazy, but
It is also in the beginning and ending
Truth lives in all three
Birth and death
Life being, of course, the space between

What we can’t see
Where we can’t see

I dreamt I went shopping the other night
I was walking down the aisles of a grocery store
The light was bright, garish
Overwhelming

I couldn’t find what I was looking for
I can never find what I am looking for

I’m the type of person who has difficulty lighting a cigarette
Always standing in the wind, stifling the flame
I strike the flint once, twice, three times before shifting
Positions

Trying again.

Bon Nuit

You tell me goodnight in five different languages

sleep clings to the edges of our eyes, of our lips

your voice scratches out the words

hoarse from loving and laughing, at each other//with each other

I ask you to repeat it in Russian, your native tongue

I want to hear again

how your mouth forms the words

want to watch your lips push them out

I love to watch what your mouth can do.

Certainty

I ripped up the photo of us

I took it off my altar last week

 I don’t know if I regret it

Ripping it, I mean

I can always print another,

If I want

The pieces landed on my guitar

I don’t think it was intentional

I was feeling petty and small and

Just a little bit trite

I can’t tell if I miss you

I’ve rebuilt the wall around my heart

Only concerning you, and a few other

Unmentionables 

I think it’s going to take me a minute

To come to terms with losing you

I had high hopes for us

My childish view of love and 

Relationships shining through 

I don’t want to have to say goodbye

To be conquered by fate and truths

Too harsh to be faced together

It’s important for us, it would seem,

To divide and conquer

Fate has other plans for us

Maybe we’ll get drunk together one night and

She’ll whisper them in my ear

Explain to me why we came together

Only to fall apart

Unsatisfied.

Unsure.

Chest Deep

Distance is strange

I forget how I feel,

If I feel

 

Everything seems more romantic

or more dramatic

than it is

 

Things get lost in translation

we get lost in translation

the space between what is and what has been

 

Is murky

I wade through it

and at times there is no light

 

Just me, chest deep in our history

trying to feed the flame of our passion

I see you up ahead

 

A silhouette

lined in golden ember

at times, it seems all I do is follow you

 

Then I look back and see you there

I wonder how I could have missed you

where was I when you passed me unseen?

 

This murk must end

we must find our way through,

until then?

 

I’ll wade in this space between