Monday, March 30, 2009

The next chapter

we peel back the lines
of some long forgotten sentence
as if it were the unravelling
of an orange sweet and ripe
just a second shy from falling to the ground

you hand me a half-moon smile of a piece
that I slip between pursed lips
the sudden shock of bittersweet
turning my tongue to a tang tinged alert

and I laugh a bit
my eyes watering up into what
could be mistaken for tears

you touch my cheek softly
brushing chilled skin
and glance across the alley
where the sudden sparks are from
shooting up high out into the night

and I wonder if you are searching
for cue card direction
some sort of sign from the studio audience
because some days it surely seemed
that I needed the approval of the masses
more than I needed you

and it was the nature of
that drive and desire
glue stuck to me
ever since I was a child of five
setting toys across the grass
pleading with wordless conviction
for someone to notice me
for a sign that I was wanted

but I am far from the Hee Haw overalls
and jungle gym calloused hands
of a far past 1973 summer afternoon
and this story tale time in between
is nothing like a final happy ever after

because it takes more than a horse
and a first kiss
to make any kind of forever
dirty hands and tired bodies
falling and failing to get back up again
the hardest work is that of a relationship

but kiss me anyway as the year turns to another
and we will collect those coloured sparks from the sky
that make a night like this taste of fabricated magic
maybe if we hold it deep in our pockets
saved for later

we could pull them out and use the gleam
to light each of our individual pathways
and some days we might trade them off with each other
when we meet up at the curve and curl
taking hands briefly to say I am still here

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