Monday, 21 April 2014

19. Choices

What broke? You were the one
of lazercats & exploding candy

who wrung the skins of the small hours
to eke out dawn’s juice.

Remember when everything beneath
our soles was mattress springs?

When, looped on gravity, we reneged
our feet-promise to the floor?

Remember? Besotted by power tools,
you drilled LPs to the ceiling

so that music drummed on our collar bones
like thunderous summer rain.

I miss that. Something slipped; the soil split—

for a moment, you were bow-legged,
trying for footholds
    on each side of the gorge.

Distracted by avalanches,
I glimpsed away.

Then she held her hand out.
Then you chose.

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