[This is from six years ago, written in a work notebook uncovered in sorting out the move…]
I can see a whole life racing time
In a single tear dripping from your eye,
Colors and expression and people pass through
Baby born, an old woman waiting to die.
My head feels the heat from the passion
Radiating from your cheek to my skin.
I would pull away, run away, except our
Horses gallop together, as the day begins.
“Make me taste yesterday’s passion,”
You scream across the morning sun
Trying to say what, I wonder idly,
Since our lovemaking was so mundane.
Another tear slithers down,
And another, catching the light
Glaring in my eyes, glaring thoughts
Confusion spreading, anger rising to match
The horses jump a brook and we cross
Into a new terrain, peopled with brush and ravines
“Stop,” I say, “tell me why you need this taste.”
But you ride on, oblivious in the morning sun.
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