Friday, October 26, 2012

That silly speck of dust

If only you could see it
This speck of dust: love
I eek out with pen and paper
Hardly the stuff of Shakespeare’s ink
Running line after line in eloquent rime
There are  no rimes in mine
Only dust and desire
a finger drawn “I love you”
on a direct card windshield.
Secret messages
That even you don’t know
I have no courage to tell you
Or to sneak them out of my room
To slip under your door
A greeting card would do better
Impersonal, the knowledge that
A millions other eyes
Translate those lines
In the same exact way,
“I love you – you – YOU – YOU,”
How foolish a sound that makes
In my lonely room
Snapping back at me
From four blank walls
“I love you – you – YOU – YOU,”
As if you might hear it through the wall
And understand that it is more
Than dust seeping down
Out of the cracks.

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