Sunday, October 30, 2011

Such Things As Collapse Softly


  Summer Holiday by seaworthy


      I had forgotten the way you looked as a child. This as I neared Seattle: the words of your most recent letter came back to me: "We wondered if you might have escaped us, like we thought we could escape you. Thirty years is a long time. I fear I've truly lost my hold on the past." You had spoken to me on the phone about the way your capacity to forgive has become indistinguishable from your imagination. This strikes you as a terrible thing, I think.
     Dark clouds hang above the city, and I imagine time punctuating our lives like a rain engulfing the void between passers-by. We see each other through years which are not so heavy as a single moment that brings us out of this lilting, airless love.


A Blessing In Disguise 
By J.A.

Yes, they are alive and can have those colors,
But I, in my soul, am alive too.
I feel I must sing and dance to tell
Of this in a way, that knowing you may be drawn to me.

And I sing amid despair and isolation
Of the chance to know you, to sing of me
Which are you. You see,
You hold me up to the light in a way

I should never have expected, or suspected, perhaps
Because you always tell me I am you,
And right. The great spruces loom.
I am yours to die with, to desire.

I cannot ever think of me, I desire you
For a room in which the chairs ever
Have their backs turned to the light
Inflicted on the stone and paths, the real trees

That seem to shine at me through a lattice toward you.
If the wild light of this January day is true
I pledge me to be truthful unto you
Whom I cannot ever stop remembering.

Remembering to forgive. Remember to pass beyond you into the day
On the wings of the secret you will never know.
Taking me from myself, in the path
Which the pastel girth of the day has assigned to me.

I prefer "you" in the plural, I want "you,"
You must come to me, all golden and pale
Like the dew and the air.
And then I start getting this feeling of exaltation. 

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