Floating in the water I spent all my time looking up and making out your face in all the different shapes between the white clouds and the blue space- my imagination brought us together like the pull of gravity from the sun and I danced around you like the planets
spiraling and spinning until too dizzy
I fell.
Dizzy
I want to brush you away
as if running my hands through lavender
and taking only what is given
your disruption has changed the scene
Are you paying attention
to the ripples in the water-
a reflection
of my mind
when you dipped your toes
and left, and
the ripples in the water
kept moving
changing the scene
like a distortion
and I can’t tell
what’s right, what’s
happening
is there a difference?
I no longer believe that
we can go down to the pool
sit and dip without
changing everything-
you and me are too deep
for shallow touches
because even these
push out to the very edges
It makes no difference
I run out of words-
do you get the picture?
are you nervous?
I’m a romantic in the way Fitzgerald defines it.
(I'm not sentimental--I'm as romantic as you are. The idea, you know, is that the sentimental person thinks things will last--the romantic person has a desperate confidence that they won't.)
Dizziness
The flashing phone signaled a wanting message urgent enough
that it couldn’t wait until next time it had to be
now but I couldn’t move or lift my gorilla lame arm
from off the couch- it was as if gravity rained down in buckets