10.17.2009

AS SUMMER BECOMES WINTER

Remember when we thought
time was so vast
and attainable, we would hold it
in our cupped hands and
let it gradually slip out
to follow the traces leading
from today to
tomorrow when the clear yellow-white June sun
would reflect off the ocean
in thousands of breathless crystal shards
and we would turn our heads, squinting
and laughing as shallow streams
sprung from our eyes
cutting through dirt caked on our cheeks
churning down the swift rapids of your lips
to fall
so gracefully
down your neck and chest
and whorl and collect between your breasts
in deep pools of merlot?

I made that well the center of my home
and remained by it even after you were gone,
but the city outside expanded
and the space each had
diminished
and small steel houses blanketed the horizon
in various shades of rust
haphazardly built from one another
like an endless row of dominoes
circling my old handmade shelter,
gradually suffocated by ash
and forgotten.

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