HER HAND

What will the day bring?

The same as yesterday,

A difficult awakening,

A quick-fire breakfast,

A poem,

A book, on loves,

Later, exhaustion,

A failed attempt to read,

A headache.

 

The headache slows me,

I’m down and out,

Words fall straight from my head,

They enter. They don’t remain,

Sleep doesn’t come,

This would allow me peace,

I’ll never know peace.

 

My eyes are blinded,

I see nothing now,

There’s nothing to see,

There’s only bile,

The floor’s not polished,

Will never be again,

Will I die in this room?

Will I leave it?

Will I ever leave it?

 

A different way of life,

I see it on a screen,

He doesn’t speak to you,

That’s your loss,

You’re lost without him,

I’d be likewise lost,

But I hold him dear,

I won’t wither.

 

A touch of religion,

A touch of sanctity,

Rest well,

Paradise is far,

And we fear it,

We weep for lost souls,

Yet these are the free,

They leave nothing to chance.

 

I make the rounds,

She understands my state ….

She attempts to,

I want her hand,

Hand it over,

That finger needs a ring,

I’ll tell you later,

I’ll tell you everything

If you wish to know it,

What do you want to know?

 

I’ll be faithful to you,

You alone,

Your nights are spent alone,

Mine also,

Where did you grow, love?

Here, nearby, or far?

Show me all you knew,

Show me your past.

 

Our futures will be shared,

Just open the door,

Just a crack,

I’ll creep in quietly,

I’ll creep on out,

I’ll walk on tiptoes,

I won’t wake the house,

I’m ever so subtle.

 

To see your bed,

Where you lay your head,

Where you rest tired bones,

I’ll rest there also,

Death won’t have us,

There will be no death,

Death won’t surround us.

 

There’s only living here,

We let mice out,

They’ve been poisoned,

They won’t make it,

They don’t move,

There’s bread beside them,

They want none of it.

 

How will you find me?

You’ll find me well,

I’ll be found out,

You’ll find yourself here,

Here where I was always desolate,

You’ll be a welcome intrusion,

I’ll hold the window open,

You’ll climb on through.

 

He’s been heard twice,

He’s been exiled twice,

I let him know he’s known,

Only by association,

He filled in valiantly,

He was to never remain,

He knew his place,

As I know mine.

 

There’s stairwell after stairwell,

He heard my voice,

My recorded voice,

They left me to the dead end,

They didn’t know I’d become,

Become known by another name,

They’ve left it all behind,

A sorry lot.

 

They mocked,

With one I felt a kinship,

She was not of my kind,

Not always present,

Then, I felt betrayed,

They never understood,

I had much more to offer,

The world would listen,

It ignores you,

Enjoy your circular travels.