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Sunday, October 12, 2014

Tell Me Love...

Tell me love, of your softest place. Show me where life rests soundly on the quilt of your patchwork of dreams, where even the sharpest blow is absorbed and silenced, where unseasonal warmth swallows all that is cold. Show me the heart that breathes new life into frozen soil like a first spring sun that draws new roots onward and upward to outstanding heights, to bring life upon life upon life-a twig borrowed from a branch for a baby bird, a seed that falls and rises again. 

Oh shame to me, I've only seen the reflection of such a place in your eyes as I passed you in the hallway on my way to better things each morning, wearing my heart like a knight's armour, certain of a new battle just beyond our front door. I would come home and cry that the day was so long and unkind, walking clean past your open arms on my way to dreamless TV and flat warm beer.

Let us go far away from here.

Let us take an autumn day and throw dying leaves like party candy for fearless children.

Let us conceive a new love on an old beach, though the unnumbered grains scratch and burn at copper skin. Let us erect a flag on the sandbar, for the tide to steal and rank us among the eternal waters.

Let us make a pact on a broken hill, a future from a burning house, let us polish our style in a dusty room.

Let us...wait a minute; strike all of that. Put your clothes on...you look like a fool. And I am a clown who lays beside you...my balding skull shoving hair out the sides like a defective Chia Pet...cha-cha-cha-chia. My smile is painted on. My limp neglected manhood bows to you like a scolded beagle, shivering in the February air, apologizing for being less than triumphant. I should never have invited you back. Your lies are too heavy, my rage burns too hot. Your memory is too long for the sins I've forgot. Love has failed us both, for Love has not guarded this sacred altar that has rusted and decayed from a million tears. Love has not guarded us from ourselves. Your splendorous September dress is yellowing now. The rented tux I wore surely found a man better suited for the job. I hope he didn't catch a curse before he took it off on that first magical eve, to lay with his new eternity. The fabric wedding bouquet is scattered all over Kerr Ave. I did it some justice with two steel toes and six cold ones. Love has failed. Love has failed. You have failed. I have failed. Call a cab...and grab a pizza if you want...go to Franco's; he'll fill you up for cheap. I'll give you the money, whatever it costs. Whatever it costs. Please just get lost.


Tell me love, when you've landed in town. Have the child ready; I'll be around.

2013  SLM

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