We exchanged I love you’s and went our separate ways.
destiny had been kind to us for a season
Now, overflowing in tears
the nostalgia for something so wondrous and fair nearly kills me
It’s something different that the memories -
the dry uncontrollable ache of loss
which I daily transmute with ritual:
Fresh thyme grown in a pot near my feet,
Infused in oil in a jar
daily performed.
Searching in a new place and time
I play a different song
I finally got it through my head but
just cant break it to my heart.
My girl grew up in a tank
I didn’t
Victoria, you are more constant
than the reliability of air
You hold me tighter
than true love at its best
I have an insatiable longing for home.
How do I find it again?
What am I even missing?
These liminal memories haunt me.
Night after night, I'm transported back;
Back to where I had so much pain and joy.
Reason tells me that to go back would hurt more.
These memories are not good ones.
But they draw me in,
Wrapping me in a warm embrace,
So sleepy and snuggly
That I don't realize I'm suffocating.
To go back where I was
Means I cannot return.
So I cannot go back,
Lest I fall asleep in the sauna.
You want a sauna
humid Kansas is waiting
well leave the light on
Juicy sweat trickles down my back, the
Undulating fan, noisy, weakly blows
Lethargic gusts of dazed and drugged humidity in
Yellow-crusted corneas, blinded by desert dust
Steamy, simmering hot Santa
Ana air, dragon's breath mirage, melting
Unrelenting internal inferno
No relief for the next week, then
August arrives.
7/24/18
Any poem from July 2018
Sponsor Dear Heart aka Broken Wings
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