notreWorld
in the desert
under an unending umbrella of stars
that held the rain at bay
you tumbled into the back
of the old VW van and
held your hand against me
and you told me fairy tales
that you made up in the moment
stories of princesses
ensnared by dragons
or other strange creatures
and some nights i listened
but other nights
i drifted away
into my own thoughts
afterwards you smoked your dope
doobies you called them
and you held the drift of
soot and vapour
deep in your lungs
until your face would light up
with a strange excitement
your eyes
drifting off
into nowhere
or as you would say
between giggles
into our world
oh, what did you call it?
notreWorld
a silly fusion of languages
and then you would purr
cat sounds
not soft
more like the purr of
a huntress
until your hands held me so tightly
i could barely breath
trapped in your passion
your captive
in the morning
you would remind me
not to speak
not even a whisper
and you would walk across the red sand
as far away as you could
without getting lost
and on the way back
you would pick up stones and rocks
or wild flowers you might find and dry
memories you called them
and i said nothing
nothing at all
knowing strangely
that i was being spoken for
in Montreal
i met a lady
who wore a feather boa
around her neck
and she cared for me
all the time your were gone
and then beyond
we lived together
in a country house
left to her by her aunt
and as day turned into day
she undid all the sorrow
you had salted
in my veins
today you fold my body
crease every edge of my uncertainty
with a firm palm
and slip me into your enveloping love
you seal my memory with a kiss
and tuck me away
in a shoebox of treasures
under your bed
where now i linger
with a few faded photographs
and some ancient jewelry of tarnished rare metals
and yet strangely not one stone or rock
not one dried flower
instead wrapped in a velvet cloth
under an unending umbrella of stars
that held the rain at bay
you tumbled into the back
of the old VW van and
held your hand against me
and you told me fairy tales
that you made up in the moment
stories of princesses
ensnared by dragons
or other strange creatures
and some nights i listened
but other nights
i drifted away
into my own thoughts
[mostly i thought of the house
the red door
and the torn brown carpet inside
the threadbare couch
where i sat for years
alone and struggling
to somehow remain sane
years of desperation
as i watched out the window
for you to come]
afterwards you smoked your dope
doobies you called them
and you held the drift of
soot and vapour
deep in your lungs
until your face would light up
with a strange excitement
your eyes
drifting off
into nowhere
or as you would say
between giggles
into our world
oh, what did you call it?
notreWorld
a silly fusion of languages
and then you would purr
cat sounds
not soft
more like the purr of
a huntress
until your hands held me so tightly
i could barely breath
trapped in your passion
your captive
[you folded my body into yours
covered all we were in darkness
plugged the crack of doom with wadding
emptied ether into glasses
and taught me how
to be your lover
touching me here and here
and coaxing me into wilder positions
until sex became
a revolution
of flesh
each hungry bite of your love
stealing my flesh
piece by piece
until i feared
there would be nothing left
and i would cease to exist]
in the morning
you would remind me
not to speak
not even a whisper
and you would walk across the red sand
as far away as you could
without getting lost
and on the way back
you would pick up stones and rocks
or wild flowers you might find and dry
memories you called them
and i said nothing
nothing at all
knowing strangely
that i was being spoken for
[and so night turned to day
and day turned to night
and before the moon cycle ended
we were apart
you on a train going to New York
saying you needed to get an abortion
before the summer came
and even as i knew
it was all a lie
i dropped you at the station
and knew i would not
miss you for a moment ]
in Montreal
i met a lady
who wore a feather boa
around her neck
and she cared for me
all the time your were gone
and then beyond
we lived together
in a country house
left to her by her aunt
and as day turned into day
she undid all the sorrow
you had salted
in my veins
[you would say
i fell for her
like a silly naive boy
an amateur at all things
especially with regards to
matters of the heart
and you would shout
my name across the yard
and swear i was living
with clowns
who belonged in the circus
not in real time
at all]
today you fold my body
crease every edge of my uncertainty
with a firm palm
and slip me into your enveloping love
you seal my memory with a kiss
and tuck me away
in a shoebox of treasures
under your bed
where now i linger
with a few faded photographs
[your mother, father, and someone indistinct
your grandparents in sepia
a bedraggled black dog with wistful eyes]
and some ancient jewelry of tarnished rare metals
[a ring with a topaz encircled with diamonds
a golden chain snapped off at the clasp
a misshapen silver heart, green-black at one corner]
and yet strangely not one stone or rock
not one dried flower
instead wrapped in a velvet cloth
[a gun]
