I reach across my pillow and
Come up with air I inhale it
And there is still the fragrance
Of you, but you have been gone
For longer than I wish to remember
A simple conversation broke us in
Two and I wonder how it happened.
You wanted to converse and even
Said or asked why we couldn’t do
This more often. I cannot sit down
At an appointed time and begin a
Communication about something or
Anything. With me it is spontaneous,
Either there or not and I am not going
To fake it, just like I wouldn’t lift my
Cane to stop traffic a half block away
When I only had a few more steps to
Take. Life is too full of phony baloney
And when faced with it I would rather
Be in another stratosphere where
Perversion does not exist. Why, I wonder,
Is retaliation so important to you. Can’t
You practice quietness for just a little while
As the world continues to rotate and many
Things will happen that you have no control
Over. You pretend too much, and when I
Grabbed a handful of air it was hot, and in
Actuallity the essence of you, I am sorry to
Say. You need to control and to be one up
On your adversaries. Your ideas come from
Perverts who tell you what they are going to
Get on their twentieth anniversary. Only her
Flippant remark came to nothing as the
Marriage came to an end, and so did her money
As he picked her clean before dropping her like
You would a cheap suit at Goodwill. That’s it.
If you want to talk, drop me a line. If not
I still can reach out for your air which you
Think comes from verdant pastures and
Sweet streams of water.
Stanski
April 30, 2023, ^