reflections on distance, longing, mating & time |
if i'd had your number if i'd had your number i would have called, even from that far place, in that strange land where everything grows freely just to say, "are you beneath the very same moon? is your extra pillow fluffed and empty? has your little dog even noticed i'm no longer robbing her of the only friend she has?" last night, in a bar where i couldn't understand my own language, for one moment, i wished you were holding my hand, snaking through that crowded cavern, so thick with human humidity, so close and fertile i felt i could smell everyone's breakfast seeping-out of them, smell the sweet lies which pass between men and women caught-up in the dense rituals of pickups and refusals, overtones and long, lustful glances across a wormy midnight room of writhing bodies oblivious to conventions of propriety and fear, covered over, fully, by the thick warm sea of man's carnal longing and its gap-toothed sister between a woman's legs, breathing and aching for the pulse which passeth all understanding; i caught myself returning from loss-in-thought, and looked back to see just where, along the way, in this sea you let my hand go, and where, in this sea, you were floating now; in that strange place, i shuffled through my feelings, like a tongue unable to find a missing tooth, probing the place where you had been. |