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your marble

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curtains open

parallel universe
you are taller

more slender
hands willowy and fingertips

chin rests on my head
like helicopters landing softly

hair long, straighter than sunlight
a waterfall to rocky shoulders

the words you speak, now
seem pure

eyes the soul’s splashes waves
looking up expanding

smiles, like sun rises, don’t seem painful anymore
like they do now

you are loose
at every moment open unlaced

when you run, it’s art
Pollock maybe

wouldn’t be surprised if
you weren’t even touching the ground

a canvas on the floor never touched by a brush
but painted

you like all the same things, more
you’re as kind and sweet as ever, a silly heart thinly veiled

a lot of things
don’t have to change, know that, hardly anything

your marble
is fine.

we are older, wiser, better now
in this universe

prepared, having kissed life
tasted its bitter sweet lips.

i drive to your house
an hour away, all the time

we sit in the living room
with your mom, lips pursed, head bent down

like she’s watching kittens
play

we talk
throw heads back

the world outside
is distant

we write poems, read them aloud
i don’t have to write this, maybe i don’t even now

i drive home
with you, even though you’re not there

we live simply, peacefully
a life full of important things; truth, fiction

we make friends abundant
travel

we keep busy
like the flowers not like the bee

we ask nothing more, but a purpose.

curtains close

i walk out

say

the problem with this

is that it won’t happen

because i can’t see

the good

in reality,

like you.





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