Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Flyfishing In Retrospect


She said
"Your words touch me
like nothing ever has.
You move me deeply,
your muse defeats me
in my resistance
to love."
She had plans
dreams, ambitions,
in which love had no
secure position
offered no real security
She was raised for heroinism
is that hero to those
who didn't know
any other way to pay
no time for play
no room for heart
especially not for a poet
a starving artist
though he may love most
though he may be the smartest
the most no nonsense
among her friends
a cure for her intellectual boredom
there came a time when
she chose to ignore him
it took all the strength she could manage
she didn't easily heal from the damage
he is still a missing peace
although she is not lonely
although she loves again
his words still make her feverish
her curiosity made her vulnerable to this
life got practically better
she found many ways to forget
he found it hard not to remember
through many lovers she lingered
in time they both adjusted
the beat of the love was still percussive
at least in his rhymes
anonymous was a woman
more than one time
he loved her truly
in time he healed
her plans for a better man
were fully fulfilled
accept for his words
they tasted like breakfast at tiffany's
ended like a lightning crash
flashed like a masterful symphony
she was the 2 year fairy tale
he previously wrote
she was physical catharsis
the evolution of an artist
or a chemical symptom
the facts were stranger than fiction