Lovers &
Friends
It
never was; and yes it was.
We
rafted rivers.
We
were so lost, feigning goodbyes.
How
many nightcaps!
Our
hats have changed,
suffering
temptation,
warring
an
inner
voice, clawing brick walls.
A
well touched with anger,
hallways
stripping graffiti, a demon
chanting:
“Farewell”:
something
must yield.
It
drew attention—so much
energy:
eyes rolling, noses high,
plus,
unsolicited advice. We never
knew
Christians so vile.
There’s
a séance, an attic fire, where
mother
lived. We seek to find; knock
for
answers; crazy about
asking.
Jimmy
is still growing, a living veil,
as
marred as colonization. We pray,
plan
intervention, somewhat pulled
by
shadows, eye to eye with dejection.
It
never was; and yes it was.
We
rafted rivers.
We
were so lost, feigning goodbyes.
How
many nightcaps!
Seasons
change, a fireplace mourns,
a
steak is stale. Still, we count a
current,
light a candle, a crowbar to a
tomb,
excavating souls.
