Words give me the distance, the safety of abstraction
To be physically close would set off again the explosions, as when one flake of snow institutes the avalanche.
You are hundreds of miles away, far from these grey, grey skies; it is as if the beaches, the seas, the sands, the blue skies, the vast horizons are now just in dreams.
I will sit quietly to reflect, somewhere to find a small pasture. The tears are dry, just like the trees that struggle for leaf, they also are pitiful for exposure.
In this imaginary way I can place you, place you where I choose to, or where I wish to place you. In this sadness (but still at play) I can wish you the best of wishes.
I am being drawn, to the city, where we stayed and went on night-time ghoulish walks. The dull ache increases with intensity. I wonder about all the times that I escaped.
Five trees, bare of leaf; crescents set against the silver-white, sky-blue sky, beside the military airport from where young soldiers fly.
All is introspective, all is undecided; is it that, which I search myself? I search myself for my self; without going on the motorcycle journey, without climbing to the tops of the Monroe's or the higher mountains.
I am here to say I love you, I know you are where you are, but I am here, here to say I love you
I could say that I have loved you, to say it was the past, but the truth is, my truth at any rate, is that love doesn’t go away. I am here to say I love you.
It isn’t that I don’t want to be with you, but it is safer, to be here, to be here and able to say I love you.
It isn’t that I don’t want to sleep with you; to feel your warmth, to taste your lips, to fumble with your silk perfumed negligée. It’s just safer to say those things from here, here; the place where I safely can say I love you.
Each connection has all the pain and heartache of disconnection, each new trial of reconnection is a blindness that madly finds me.
It’s not that I don’t want you to find me, but it’s safer, for everyone, if you don’t start looking. It’s not that I’m trying to remind you, its just that I’m safer, safer here, here to say I love you.
You may be with a new lover, I will try to not let that disturb me, but it’s another sound reason why it’s safer to be here, here, in this place where I safely can say I love you.
I too am with another; I love her and she loves me, it’s better that way, it’s how I’d like it to stay, another reason to stay here, so that I can say, safely, here I am, safe to sing, I’m still in love with you.
This is a poem from Vagaries:
Love of The Key to Room 149
