October 28th. the day before it had arrived
pumpkin leaflets, summers leaving, volkswagon sedan on a drive
gusts of season. flannels. & walks through 10pm suburbia nights
blasts of orange harvest, olfactory senses concise.
lakeside and beverly creak. Lake Nelson just over in reach
the crossover between the fur elise and berry stems in the streets.
the very first time we ever had kissed
and unlocked sundrops. whirlwind storms that soon would commence
to convince ourselves that this wasnt pretend.
october 29th 2012, we watched on the news how much sandy had caused
wondering if our love was the somehow the cause of it all
visiting coach. 6 hour dividend coast.
whiskey & hope. woodford reserve on the millbury slopes
3000 miles. a year later. psychiatrists, and displacement was born
the forecast was sun, sun, sun, roses without thorns on the stem
feet dangling off the gondola lifts. balm on your wrist to soothe the sore on your lips.
a feeling of emptiness with her finger not adorned with a gem.
telling me time heals all. something you accustomed me too
and i believed you cause your wristwatch covered your wounds
blood drunk. hungry for more, hungry for passion
That gets robbed from me, the moment our hands clinch
i was embarrassed. ads on the walls about marriage
false interpretations of love, made the gray areas bland
endless carousel wagon, help reveal this fairytale land.
October 22nd, 2015, three years after it happened
i’ll never forget. i visited you after two years from the norm
thinking it was calm, but it was just the eye of the storm
we walked home from the bar, silence spoke a desolate rage
makeshift disarray. maroon merlot in a vase
she undressed before walking in the room as to say
she had it with life, and it’s incessant display
of obsessions for sex. and temporary embrace
of this modern day culture of sultry distaste
bra clinging off her shoulders, so i just let the metaphor hang
mama let out a cry and said it wasn’t the same
so i touched her lips with mine & understood what she claimed
inebriated, insane. on your breath, Cabernet
full bodied, at the tavern they knew you loved it that way
stroking your hair. i muttered, i know, its okay
knowing it wasnt. and knowing we’ve changed
we were both naked, and touching, but felt a silk layer in haste
and it sucks that i had nothing better to say.
gray goose swallowing pain
these scars don’t define you, these scars are displays
to let the next person know you made it out, not stronger, but strange
head in my chest, hair in my mouth, hole in my brain
nestled in the crevices where the tension exclaimed
a lie is just a story where its ruined by truth in mistake
karen o and the kids on the record replays
squeezed each other hands. a two people submission
inside of delusion. to sobbing in fetal position
relationships never play out as we have them envisioned
its true what they say that life is a bitch…es.
keeping the ring box in my pocket mightve been indecision
the next day, on the plane she said to send her a text
thousand kilometer stretch. its something we wanted in jest
when i landed she asked me if we could ever work out the distance
to feeling the neglect in between the pause in her sentence
as the autumn air in newark port, teared through my throat
love rendezvous became my de ja vu. a hurricane i had to fare on my own