Tagged: years

the right words cost an

the right words cost an
arm and a leg – no one warns
you when you are just

starting out. it takes decades to
roll them out appropriately
.
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y

perhaps months,

perhaps months,
years from now, these
days will become
foggy, it’s how our
minds insist on
playing games with
our hearts – now you see
me, now you don’t

we have no choice as
witnesses, obligated
to make out every
fine detail in the
heightened haze
.
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y

all day, i keep

all day, i keep
forgetting that you
left us this morning,
and even now, when
i quiet my heart to
take in the news, i
hear old news, when
you called eight years
ago to say that he’s
gone, and do not be
sad, it was so peaceful,
you were reading to him
as he sat in his favorite
chair, and then
you were reading.
tonight, i am not ready
for the details just yet.
there are no brave
messengers. you are
gone, but not yet gone
.
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y

it’s true, i never

it’s true, i never
wrote about you,
in neither of the
simple nor elaborate
accordion space of
twelve years, not a
word in even the
most imperceptible
folds, it would seem
i am now making
up for lost time, like
a gypsy creature
tuning her la vie
en rose
underground,
on the bleecker street
station platform,
skirt swaying
.
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y

every once in awhile

every once in awhile,
you will be tempted
to compare six seconds,
six hours, or six days
with six years –
stop, don’t
.
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y

because we knew just

because we knew just
enough about kissing, having
practiced being out

of practice, for comfort and
years, it came as a surprise
.
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y

i know, and now you

i know, and now you
know, how this will go –
there will be
one week when i will
be indecisive about emptying
the wicker trash bin in the
bedroom, months when i
will avoid vacuuming
one or two corners of the
apartment for fear of
erasing you, a year or
five may go by before i
walk down that street
or head to the cloisters
again, and still, there
will be pockets within
minutes
, here and there,
when i will, without so
many words, bump into
the feeling the last time…
was with you
over and
over, until you become
like a fragrance from
lifetimes before
.
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y