Tag Archives: infatuation

Sleight of Hand

A young and beautiful French girl,

dark hair, pale skin, big, brown eyes.

Glamourous dress, white and black,

looking beatifically from a magazine.

The Amtrak train moves on and on

towards Baltimore, then New York.

Dim and muted blue of the sunrise;

I can look at the picture, not words.

Another picture, ivory white swimsuit

as she swims in a clear swimming pool.

Long dark hair behind her, the night

being blown back by the morning sun.

I carry my few clothes, notebooks,

paperbacks and phone in a duffel.

Wear simple pants, t-shirt, ball cap.

I am plain in appearance, bland, even.

The sun is rising, hot golden light in

a cold and uncomfortable train car.

I look at the French girl, sleight of hand,

whether God or sex, we want escape.

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White on White

White on white of her

under shirt and t-shirt

and she absently wipes

down the tables, end of shift.

Too worn black pants,

and spiky black hair,

pixie cut growing out again,

sighing of the growing rift.

The simple little diner

is too garish white against

the black of the cold winter night.

Too sleep again is the gift.

I put sickly green bills on the table,

and she smiles, her brown eyes shining.

At the door I watch her, white on white,

as my girlfriend comes to give me a lift.

 

Rebekah and Death, Smoke Break

The death angel said hello,

tapping on my car’s window.

She also bummed a smoke,

and of you and me she spoke.

A chain book store, cold night.

She said maybe it was still right

to dream of you, better than

the lingering rage at a Jesus Man.

Thin, gold rim glasses, black hair.

Rebekah you have a halo to despair.

You have a smile I made an a prize.

A dirty needle of greed, no surprise.

The death angel makes a joke rhyme.

Her cold, soft hands inspire my crime.

The night is endless, for you I ache, empty.

Walking on the highway, you just tempt me.

 

The Warmth Of Her Name

All is bright, they say. All is well, they tell me.

I dream of paradise by a great and grey ocean.

I burn her photograph, but ashes in a green bottle.

I burn the face that haunts me, to put it out of my mind,

My dreams, the morbid fantasies of my drunk and foolish heart.

 

The ashes in the bottle, a lock of her golden hair, the kiss she gave.

I put them in and seal it with white candle wax, from a candle somehow burning.

I put the treasures and the accursed words I used to woo her on the glass.

I throw the bottle into that great and grey ocean, let those dark waters take her,

And the dreams and wonders and devastating adoration to the end of the world.

 

I fall to the sand, white and cold and moist, and let that bitter wind end all feeling.

I feel her face fading from my memory, the warmth of her name cooling in my heart.

I feel the gnawing desire, the ambition for companionship thwarted, fretting on the wind.

I feel the freedom of emptiness, the only peace the lack of wanting what cannot ever be.

I feel the angel curse my name, as it salvages that love from the great and grey ocean.

Tender and Sharp and Bright

A dream for another night, impatient for winter, and how I want it to be.

               She is tall and proud, from the place beyond the forests and the fog.

               Kindle some distant dream of love, of finding myself in her arms at night.

 

               The bar is loud and bright, but we have some quiet time to speak,

               As another table roars for the game, and swears rise from another.

               I can make the noise and light and flashing fall away, looking at her.

 

               My beer not even half-finished. My food eaten. The night coming.

               We’ve chatted about our worlds, and what brought to this place.

               I dream of her in a dark velvet dress, in the fog bound and ancient forests.

 

               And I look one last time into those eyes, tender and sharp and bright.

               She smiles, and it seems worth it, all the trouble to come her to see her.

               Kindle some distant dream of love, of finding myself in her arms at night.