Next Steps

Searching the clouded terrain below,
I distinguish myself from brush and stone.
Not certain how I hover,
As I sit atop this damp, powderful throne,
And watch.

Your back to my retreat from single
Pieces of the demise I promised to bear
From ruin. From which I start to
Recall those times I left and ran from there:
From you.

Firesmoke lingering outside its warmth; diving
My soul into that pond so bright
With starblaze. I anticipated your appreciation-
The sole affection of poets' sight,
Which I envy.

Below me, I tread away and remember that day
When you mattered so much,
I could not stay upon your bed so close
To your breath, your insults, your touch,
Without them really.

A strange thing to encounter yourself doing,
When one is not himself at all.
But knows his own mind; for where other
Is my own mind but within ME as I fall
Back to my body.

We, as we shall be, apart no matter
How often we're together.
It shows no bounds, this fissure I've created
That girl walking away, If you'd let her,
would come back.
Nov. 4, 1999