I was your lover once.
Creeping in through the stage back doors,
Peeping from behind velvet curtains
And leaving pale footprints on a sawdust floor.
Unburdened with trivia, mild decisions
Or an actor's mask of love's false revisions;
We hurried from the set,
And on an iron railed balcony we met
And whispered gentle lies and un-measured faith
And rushed to blood and misery because we thought the hour late.
You were a lover too, un-skilled in dreadful arts,
Numbered among those blind
To faithless wishes,
Denial of bright sorrows
And the death of those in kind.
Take an evening.
Lay it aside from schedules and entourage demands;
Take a seaside walk and let the ocean's summer breeze
Drive the sand of certain yesterdays
Away from your un-cupped open hand.