3669. THESE PROVISIONS

 THESE PROVISIONS

I must tunnel to Hell first through your

barricaded heart. The night watchman

says he hears you curse my name : the

silence of time, yes, I admit, can be as

deafening as all that too, but I tell him

nothing more. We've outlasted all the

gimcrackery and avoidance together.

-

Onto the shelf I watch you put the regular

junk of an everyday life : cornflakes and

maple syrup, tomato sauce and a jar of

pickled beets. No matter; these things

just are, like the smile on your face.

-

Somewhere behind my head, your

stupid music goes on : boys singing

about girls or girls singing about boys.

It's everywhere the same - the loveless

seeking love, or those in passion seeking

an out. Sex and madrigals, organ
preludes, all that a'capella crap.

-

I no longer have the hesitation needed

to run after yet another dream. It was

once a dream of you, but I've placed

that too on the shelf we've stacked.