The Absence of Wavelength

Let’s Not Dream Anymore

Criminal Thoughts

Why write poetry?
because I’m a criminal who took your thoughts,
ran deep into the night,
blind like a fool worrying, wondering
if I’ll get caught returning them
better than before.

If caught, I’ll have 29 beautiful lies.
Regardless, I’m prosecuted.
Yet, time served
dreaming you alive in my world.

It is the act of imagining what you think of me
that drove me to steal away
to shaded park benches,
hidden, ancient library stairwells,
to the sea that heaves dead scrolls at me,

or in my childhood tree, an oak
(sorry, just a maple),
to find you there,
a soul like me longing for a friend.

We run carefree,
fast as wind,
quick hounds on monarches’ tails —
snatch at slimy frogs,
standing, rolling, on mossy logs,
feet bare, fearless.

And, when I have one!
the lights come on and you’re not there.

I slip green reptiles and dead butterflies in your trousers
hung over the ready chair.

My stealth could seem your enemy if spied
in your room
where I steal your sheep each night.
My heart affrights,
runs ahead out the portal,
down long neighborhood blocks,
ducks behind white hemlock
when headlights catch up,
veer around another corner,
steer off, and relief. 

I’m free!
to be alone in my own story.

I skip the longest strides,
hop toward the bleary moon staring down.
Not a single star. Nothing in reach.

By three a.m., exhaust;
close the laptop.
Like jelly slide to sandwich in thin sheets
to conjure a story like memory.
Eyes tight, the dream I plead
please come true
is of me and you in June.

We hold hands.
Sorry, if mine are clammy.

10.31.23
53 lines

That’s how much I love, how I need a true friend.

Grammar check tomorrow