an apology

it's the dangling arms when you get right down to it
that drive me so crazy, take my breath from me
and i can see that somewhere in there
you have quiet days and need,
more than anything, the hope
i could never give you of
nights in bed reading bedtime books
(anais nin: henry eat your heart out)
and some perfect moving man
leans over to place kisses on your forehead
after a hard day, and you know it means more than love and happiness

but me, i'm a pretty simple sort,
with more than my share of anguished days
and more than just a couple skeletons
in my closet that keep me from
you.

so in your earnest hours, smiling
you say pretty things to me
and we both know that the future is so imaginary
and my closeness is the closeness of monks
with no more safety offer than
indifference, no more love than all that's mine
to give and i know that it isn't enough
it isn't what you need.

but when you came in so impulsively
i was shaken so far from here
made into beachside paradises but only half done
and halfway out of the dark.
(construction is so slow.)

i hope your reading this like i mean it
taking it in the way you take so many colors in
from your one-sided world, your one-sided ways
that i adore (you still make me tremble sometimes)
so quietly in here, a cell of human endevour
watching the crowd for the myth, the miracle, the line that makes
everything come together, makes sense of the droughts
and fires and wasted loves.

but not yours that isn't and can't be
mine.

2004-06-28 | 8:31 p.m.
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