in the wings

a repost for my new friends from July 9, 2013,
and a special ty to my friend Cindy Knoke, an
incredible photographer for always rummaging
in my archives.
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a great big hug to my daughter on her 14th birthday
for sharing this song which inspired this story/poem.
please feel free to listen to it as a soundtrack.
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in the wings
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they seemed to meet, quite by accident
but something in their eyes, told them otherwise
this wouldn’t be their first conversation
but.. it always felt like it could be the last

like a patient, who knows their time is near
with so many faces yet to see
and…confessions to make
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and…sunsets to end
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their now daily talks lasted for hours
even after they left that little cafe
feverishly texting on the bus back home
sometimes…through the hush of their night

they would talk of paintings, songs and poetry
any silly thing, as long as there was a reply
the hold on each other, so tenuous
an undertow…
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the pull of fear as real
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he not so accidently, brushed her hand on the table
she instinctively recoiled, placing it on her lap
she apologized quickly, she was sorry
but regretted showing him so much

his practiced stoic reaction, said little
this time his heart, tried valiantly to follow
‘but isn’t that how it always goes?’
setting a few more bricks in the wall

he was a little braver than she was
or maybe his clock, was just ticking faster than hers
he said the words, that they both feared
and knew it was wrong…
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the moment he spoke
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two hearts… waiting in the wings
for love to speak and heal their pain
all the words… they shared between them
could not help them say goodbye
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fade…a clarification

dear friends…i thought it was important to make clear that this poem is a story, it is fiction and it has nothing to do with my day to day, loving relationship with my partner Scout and i. i guess i muddied the waters a little bit when i spoke about my momentary melancholy, it happens to me from time to time for no apparent reason. i just took the opportunity to put those feelings into words, and that’s what this story is.

so sorry if i created any confusion.
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this poem is meant to be read as this song plays in the background
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even in the small apartment they shared
he could now carefully manipulate his body
so that no part of him ever touched her in passing
in the cramped kitchen, reaching into the fridge
at the sink, rushing to get ready for work

as if her skin didn’t grieve
the absense of his touch, as if she
couldn’t truly remember when he didn’t need a reason
to press up against her, just because he needed to
as if her lips, didn’t miss parting for his

she’ll admit to being slow
to fully absorb, what had changed between them
or maybe it was just her easy nature again
smoothing over the rough spots
blaming herself, for whatever might be wrong

at first she thought
it was just another mood he was in, a phase
she would wake up any morning now, and this could all be gone
back to when they shared more than expenses and a place to sleep gone… without a word spoken about any of it

it’s not that he was unkind, and it’s
not that he would say things that would upset her, he knew better he just never said anything right anymore….
yet they both played their charaade in public, it was
when they were alone together, that the silence screamed loudest

in the dimly lit rooms,
filled with 40 watt bulbs and questions that could never be asked end tables crowded with yellowing memories, framed pictures of their early years together, smiles and endless chatter during their torrid romance when everything seemed possible

when… he said everything right, all the words
she ever dreamed of hearing from a man
all she ever imagined a man might make her body feel
and now he flinches, at an accidental brush across his arm
like her presence… is an imposition in his life

now, it’s a fear that grips her chest
when she dares to face the possibility of this truth
she’s learned… she takes comfort in the hollow pain
her loneliness a reliable lover now, she stays
because it is far less frightening, than what she doesn’t know . . .
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because no love should ever just fade…
there is no reconciliation in apathy
no healing in the cruel silence of ambivalence
an unsteady self is left shaken
attempting to answer questions that pleaded to be
but were never answered
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because love
deserves more than
a cowardly exit . .

hush

He would trace the jagged map of cracks
smeared plaster wall aside his bed,
his ashen memory of their life imagined
‘How, how did it ever come to this?’

The signs were there trust and naive heart
believing every little late night lie,
the bills a bed and their sick calico Jane
‘Reasons? I don’t owe you anything!’

Now his grieving heart blindly traces cracks
blinds drawn closed on the summer day,
the life imagined all his dreams gone hush
‘How, how did it ever come to this?’

written April 2013
this poem was submitted to
20 Lines A Day prose and
poetry challenge for April.
http://anexerciseindiscipline.com/2013/04/08/hush/

the love note left

Not a single detail of the apartment
renovation would Charlie leave unnoticed,
relaxed in her own skin so comfortably deliberate
in her decisions, aligning tradesman
one by one day after ten hour day.
Sharing space in the small one bedroom condo
close quarters for even one small person,
the work would continue without a hitch and at a pace
that would make a seasoned developer envious.
Making allies not enemies the path of least resistance
that easy way about her a trait developed early used often,
her familiarity never breeding contempt.

Her husky laugh was always a welcome distraction,
she was your friend despite knowing little about her.
The sienna brown eyed gaze and a belief in every word,
no pretense in her warm eyes her simple fashion as honest.
Every facet of her life so carefully considered
and if missteps were made, they never showed.
Dark brown hair, parted air dryed and tossed
framed glowing mediteranean skin, no makeup.

For years the neighbors saw her walking the coiffed Shitzu
her only constant companion, both of short stature in such
a big world sharing such a quiet confidence between them,
wherever it was they both belonged.
Not a single life detail would Charlie ever leave to chance,
simple smart styled furnishings had a purpose and reason
a reflection of a life lived unattached.

Quiet solitary rarely a sound heard, that only in
ocassional hallway passing did neighbors learn
that Charlie no longer lived alone.
Unannounced as was her habit, nonetheless a choice
and a chance taken that would change everything.
Her first love, Charlie was fearless.

As planned, the many details welcoming her partner
expanded closetspace, cozy double bathroom sinks
2 leather barstools the kitchen island
the surface a finely polished black granite custom ordered,
all perfectly executed and completed on time as expected.
Forever an early riser never a shared kitchen
Charlie slipped easily into her new morning ritual, disciplined
brewing extra coffee a place setting cut organic fruit, yogurt.
A favorite though, Charlie left scribbled
notes on linen cards handmade enclosed in its matching envelope.
Reminders, loving misivs handwritten in her steady penmanship,
leaving little doubt of her devotion.

Waking up later than usual that day Charlie already long gone,
staring at that drawer already overflowing a year full of notes,
the questions and doubts already answered
the backpack filled regrets set aside, the decision to leave made.
Closing the drawer and locking the door behind her, the love note left
exactly where she always found it.

written March 2013