Love Note 823 – draft

Love Note 823

The trouble with numbers is

I’ve lost count of all the

quiet hopeful gestures;

to me you are one

singular graceful open hand.

Counting all those moments

would mean assigning you

a feebly fixed decibel,

when I know you are

a swirling whirling infinity

violet in the dark

reaching always for me.

 

—ECW drafts

Memior – drafts

Memior

I remember now

we were driving

and that song came on that I hate

but I didn’t tell you because we

had just met and I was

still on my best behavior.

I remember now

it was a Monday and you posed

another ultimatum – them or me

and I sat quietly a while until

you asked again, with a well

and a tell me.

And you took my wallet

Out of my open purse

And snapped my bank card

See! you said See!,

I was serious

I remember now

I was scared.

 

—ECW drafts