pathetique 1

it never rained when you want it to
dark sky
meanspirited
hovering
finally relieved itself onto the dust

no real reason why
the curve, known as the back of your hand
slicked
would not tolerate a vehicle at any speed
besides you were tired.

the world was awash
so many years ago
black wipers knocked on the window
a wet shroud on the glass
murmuring the names of the child yet to be

why do things fly when they can not?
such as car
suddenly free of it's confines
with lunatic abandon
on devils holiday
the 65 Fury
soared through the torrent
into the swollen creek below.

gravity,
angry to have lost the lot of you
returned with a vengence

How did the lights stay on?
as you sunk
headlamps cutting through the water
thicker than tulie fog
the dash
radio
fighting the belts
windows,
fighting the door
she just couldn't get free
she just couldn't do it
and you bloodied your hands trying

the air was up,
so there you went
gasping
jackknifed back down
as the current relayed you to no one
searched and cried out
swept up by branches
unconcious

she waited

no one blamed you

and
decades later
after the night
when the rains returned
where usually, a dry bed

a visit to a barber
a fresh shirt
you wandered in
clutching lilacs
smiling
with tears
whispering

'Marla
Marla

Marla'

flame

I would put you in alabama.
The drawl in your eyes speaks quietly of magnolias and
understands what happens in the spanish moss in the twilight.

You have no idea how long I wanted to talk to you, and wanted to find words to say.

I'd make anything up just to get your attention.
But I don't need to.
The truth will suffice.

I don't want you to notice me
I want you to notice me

I want to be in the shadows and just watch you watching others.
I want to be the scent that lingers in the air about you at all times of the day
I knew you were a writer,
I knew you were a poet,
It's not about the words
Screw the words

It's the interraction, gestures the glances said and unaid.

This is a quiet religion
not just a ritual on paper
It's food, wine, smoke and candles
There is chanting and quietness, tension and veils

I want innermost thoughts inside me
I have no defense against you
You could be magnificent
You could be a monster
I still want to be near you
enough to feel your breath on my cheek,
on my neck
understand?

I'm just glad that that shabby guy standing by your side
was not your husband
-else there would be some explaining to do
-and I'd avoid you like the plague...

There is one response
excelsior
it's the flare
this stuff burns underwater

It is not wrong,
-this desire just to watch you

But it is forever changed, now,
isn't it.
We've met.
We've talked.
And I want to do this again, and again, and again.

-about anything.
I want to give my full attention over...

she bit him on the cheek when he kissed her the first time, not even knowing who she was...
It was all I could do to keep from looking you in the face, just to watch your eyes and say:
-what would it take to get you to return your gaze like this to me,,, (not that I want to be seen, or adored, or think I'm such a big deal...)
No,
It's the hunger
It's the desire.

Look at me,
tell me anything, please.

Whatever it is, inside this cage,
it rocks back and forth,
but is quieted and aroused
at the mere sight of you.

that's it
I'm engulphed.