Give Me Some Twilight
All the warm spots of you are gone,
I search for pictures
But there is always a third beside us,
Or your back is turned,
Or you have red eyes
And I can’t see the rest of you.
I make do with some common objects,
Things you probably have in your home.
You must have a fork,
A knife, and a spoon, I imagine
You seeing yourself upside down
As I am now seeing myself,
And maybe thinking
How good it would be for someone
To look ugly with right now.
I remember you in the water,
When I ran to you with a towel
And we were strangers,
Can you think of me now
As anything other than an enemy?
I am scared I can remember it so well,
Not knowing you, your name,
Your weight, the color of the hair you were hiding.
You told me you loved me once,
It was just once,
And it was on the phone,
Without me in the room with you,
You let it slide out, like a button popped
From the front of your favorite blouse,
Something you didn’t expect me to pick up.
The shell from the beach,
Salty reminder of an ocean trip
We said we would repeat,
In my ear it sings
With the ambient noise
It brings the sea to me,
And I’m happy waiting for it to come.
I hold the phone
When it is a cold little rectangle,
A prism of telecommunications
And I feel I can hear you
Trying to reach me, trying to come through,
There is ringing in my ears
And I hope it never stops.