1.
Nothing happened. Not when the sound of you walking down the hall so completely fucked me up for two days that I wanted to drink. I missed you and was very lonely. But since when did getting drunk alone ever make me less lonely? I stood behind you in line at the coffee shop and felt myself growing rawly transparent and disappearing when you walked off without a backward glance. This proves we can exist in the same world without being together. (no! all it proves is that life is a burned puzzle, a heart stutter.) Judy Garland sang "Get Happy" all day today (we're heading for the river / wash your sins away in the tide) and the warm air, the inquiry of spring, made me sadder than still feeling how soft the inside of your wrist, the blooms breaking now and no one to tell, remembering the last two Aprils, and how I want to unblacken my betrayal, give you back the love I stole, and how I want to carry you past the hells I made and into prayer. How I want you to write your secret languages in the palms of my hands, walk through me and back like I am the wind in your room, and then hold on.
And nothing will happen. Will you ever read this? I can't take anything back. Only carry myself for a little while and settle my nerves, depend on the river, and lead another life altogether.
(a burned puzzle, a heart stutter ...)
2.
Nothing happened so why not blot it out? I daydream things that are implausible and stupid. I am effacing myself, I have wanted to efface myself. Do you still hate me? I have coveted suicide and tenderness. What self-pity does after an adult life of it. I am nervous with gutter bravado. I fall in between I belong here and there is no place on this earth for me. And yet I am gathering strength even as I don't understand.
I love what I should not love, and cannot see the end of it.
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