Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Sanity is in the Eye of the Beholder

You told me once I would never be alone
the same place I had first kissed you.
We were on our backs, stretched out on the grass arms splayed
fingertips almost touching

That night, I didn’t want to remember
how your hands would turn blue when it was cold
outside; I wanted us to succeed in
friendship where we had failed in romance

Underneath a spatter-painted sky
I watched you breathe, flannel breasted chest slowly rising
and I escaped from the sound of my father yelling
and you reminded me of how
I had once saved an ant from drowning

The grass was damp, kissed with dew
the park was deserted as it was so many of our nights
and the river rushed on,
tumbling when it had been still

When I tell our story,
I’ll blame the stars for their false luminescence
and cast myself in a better light,

but that night,
I believed you
because I needed to that night

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