Catherine Heath
February 2015
There’s something crazy about you.
The molten haze of eyes
Half-closed in ecstasy,
A form of fantasy
(The guise
Of all these parties).
And, indeed, I say,
This sordid wave
Of youths today
Knows solemn truth.
“Hang up the coats,
Put your cares
Away-- don’t dare
Delay another day.”
And, we swear
We won’t invent,
But find our
Own lament.
The alcoholic smell
And drying sweat
From the swell
Of aching bodies
Means we’ll get
Somebody.
You make me feel
A subtle kind
Of lust, entwined
In proper zeal,
The fateful promise
Of a kiss, or two.
And you?
“Did you hear me
When I spoke?”
Swerving in the
Cigarette smoke,
The horde of butterflies
Clutters my
Perception,
And unnerves me,
Dancing as they do with rum
And gentle memory.
We’ll dust our hearts,
Surrender, some,
(I don’t think she’s the one).
I begged for tenderness,
But now we’re half-undressed,
And the familiar caress
Is like the fit of old shoes:
At least I feel something,
At least my heart moves.
Instead of the void, of nothing.
Hitched breath
And harried fumbling;
Hope the night
Can keep from crumbling.
“Is someone right
There, at the door?”
(I think this has been done before.)
It’s always good
When it’s new;
We know what we should do.
“If we proceed
At normal speed—“
“Our tongues entwining,
Do you see?”
(And our hips fit,
Like our lips).
Maybe we’ll see what happens.
Could we fashion looks
We tore from books?
Since we yearn for this:
The beckoning abyss.
We lay together,
Head to head,
Talking of love,
Sometimes, I wish
You’d listen,
Past the shadow
Of this vision,
To the whisper
Of my words--
“I’m sorry.”
But don’t you worry--
I’m not going anywhere,
For now.
And --if I can, endow--
I’ll clasp your shoulders,
Tightly;
Hold you close to me,
(May be so bold,
Or so I’m told.)
And we’ll pretend
There’s nothing else;
To help
Us escape from gaping wells,
Which open up below.
We won’t make too much fuss,
Because this
Half-forgotten glow is
Still enough for us.
Credit: Photo by Thomas Stephan on Unsplash
