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Poetry by Robert Levasseur

Her back never faces the door “I’ll only need you on certain days” she says (absently) “I’ll have to write them down my memory doesn’t work so well especially when I am caught up” she’s thinking (a lovely stare) “Who is that in the mirror? Where did she come from why the is she here? I don’t need this right now She shouldn’t be here!” I ask (matter-of-factly) “Where did you go? Does the rain bleed sideways always? Or does it come in sporadic torrents spurting out covering everything like a permanent stain?” She ignores that and says (solemnly) “I don’t sleep so well insomnia from hell, really. She gets her claws into me so that I trance the rage. Over and over and over and over again almost comical. I can’t wait until the coffee is so strong that it sends her into a tailspin for once. Just once…” Bemused I say “But it’s more than just caffeine you need on most days right? I see you in paintings everyday you are always so resigned in your poses. You can either look like something is coming around the corner at you or you can look like you have beheld the Gods.” “Easy for you to say,” She chuckles (endearingly) “I think I’ll rest now. I can’t remember all these details. My memory can play tricks on me sometimes I feel like I’m an actress in my very own horror flick. I watch the scenes go by indifferently perhaps if I got the cobwebs out I’d be able to see things more clearly find the pause button, you know? I never did dye my hair…” she says wistfully (her repose sexy) I smile I say (sincerely) “I love your hair just the way it is” then I say (coyly) “Although, I must say, blue would really bring out your intense eyes I wonder, will she be home later? If so, will you tell her I will be betwixt and between? Within and without always just a touch away until she works through her ? I will be around permanently.” She smirks (cutely) “Sure. She probably thinks the world is ending as we speak. You know, she’s good at catastrophizing the shadows work best, usually she plays those same tapes, over and over and over…. well, you get the idea she can be engaged like that so, I’m not sure if she is or isn’t.” then she says (rather adroitly) “She’s hyper vigilant, that one reminds me of me once I detach, once I fixate on my salvation, well…anyway… you know I simply spend a load of time just trying to get back to square one whatever square one is is.” I reply (dramatically) “Well square-ing-one certainly doesn’t fit your puzzle, does it?” I lean in (purposefully) “I mean, all the squares have transformed, they are so different they’re hard to recognize. Are they not? There’s so many of them that even tunnel vision even hyper vigilance can’t always help you focus on shapes that are always shifting though, I must say you adapt quite well.” She laughs (contagiously) “, dude, I have to give you credit. at least for your quirky imagination. Christ is it time already? I gotta get back to her she could be in a state. Hopefully not in front of that ing mirror it’s not the best place on most days. It clouds her judgment. It needs replacing, that, it’s cracked and warping.” I rise (instinctively) “Thanks for stopping in. I’ll make sure I have your brand next time you come and go I found a place that stocks it regularly, the stuff of legends will you do me a huge favor?” I ask (simply) “Sure” she says rising (grace imperceptible) I put my hands on her small frame. Looking at her intently, I whisper (tenderly) “Just remember come and go as you please she can too, especially her use my place whenever you need it I know you’ll be sure to keep things nice and tidy. You happen to be quite masterful at that. And don’t worry, I will continue to keep an eye out you know, for both of you.” She smiles wryly (so lovely) glances a kiss off my flushed cheek turns and says almost as an afterthought “Aye, I know. It makes all the difference in the world I know it does to me anyway. I’m fairly sure for her as well. She’s always taking stock, sorting inventory, cleaning the messes up. I’m pretty sure she knows though. But you know how she is.” As the door closes behind her I think (happily) “Not really. But I am learning, I am learning.” (click on the pic to preview my poetry book!)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

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Date: 1/23/2021 3:39:00 AM
I have to admit "“I don’t sleep so well insomnia from hell, really." is hilarious to me for I HAVE it!
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