Friday, 21 January 2011

--finished --

I tried to down two coffees today
earnest attempt to imbibe my way
into your mind. As if somehow your drink
of choice could give voice to how you think.
 
I couldn’t even get to the bottom of the 2nd cup.
 
Seems that taste is just too much:
too much bitter, much too harsh; its touch
on my tongue, too intense, too close to real
too much a reflection of how I feel
in this silence.
 
And if I really believed that just this brew,
java, as intense and dark as you,
could in any way break through this stalemate,
I would drink my way through the entire jar,
give up preference for needs-be so that we are
once more returned to sharing future-dreams-talk
to eyes-down-stumbling shy and shoulder-bump-walk
to feeling-word-fumbling and sleep-melting-thoughts.
 
But reality knocks, drops by to remind
that life can be sweet, but never promised to be kind;
in love and war nothing is fair.  In the end you’ll find
thinking so naively will leave you stuck on rewind
thinking so naively will leave you stuck on rewind
thinking so naively will leave you stuck
nothing’s that easy.
 
I stare belligerent at coffee grounds, mud grains
where I’ve poured your drink-
thoughts in the sink, sought the drain
and willed myself to refrain
from looking for meaning in that mess. Again.
There is none.
 
And maybe that’s the meaning after all,
after letting all our thoughts and feelings freefall,
my quiet disquiet led to your withdrawal
I couldn’t understand, so, your silence is my dismissal.
I see that now.
 
And I let you walk away.
Calm, now; more, even, welcome your choice to choose not to stay
It’s your prerogative, and who am I to ask that you say
why; expect explanation. It would only delay
the inevitable.
Better, I think, that it’s turned out this way.
Goodbyes are over-rated anyway.

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