Tuesday, January 10, 2012


Want and I
know each other intimately
as two lovers.

The days of my childhood
are familiar to her tangles
As the desperation that
melts together hunger and lust
the need of both desire
and survival in a tango of
all the things we'd wished
we had forgotten.

If only Want
was as easy to divorce
as a spouse.

If I could just split down
the middle the cold and
fear and the Heat and joy
that we've shared in the years
of our youth, our pursuit
sometimes foolish and
yet sometimes more of the
order of endurance.

Without her-
Want- there'd be no need
to endure.

I could fade away without
the regrets of giving away
dreams, or the gloom of
hopeless inevitability. I
Know her as a lover in
Sadness and in Dawning
the passion of ambition
and the terror of his words.

(I can't help but
think without her, his words
would have slipped

Aside as water
on oil instead of scarring to
find me wanting.)

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