Saturday, December 10, 2005

Your Hazy Fist

Take the tablet and slip down the lane
for time has given you a place to rest.
you run inside the channel to find a better view
but what was now has sunk beneath the table.
You clear the screen but I can't see
what you've raised in front of my eyes,
the gesture seems alien,
and this violence will never hit me just the way you thought.

I could never describe what hit me
just the way it approached and slapped me hard.
When the alarm goes off
you proceed without protection,
the screen's gone blank and the afterlife
smiled down, but still
there's only so much I want to do
before I stop to shake.

Cold table cracks in front of you,
a wedding march divided into fractions,
gossiping about the aftermath
of actions long since remembered useless.
I want to hold you there
but you disappeared inside the fog
so I slip from the ledge
remembering your arms

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