I clawed through the print and found you
Living between parentheses
Venturing out in springtime
To make sure the phone was off the hook
You said "I guess it's all prefigured
We're living out some old typology"
Like ribbons of rolling water
Inching up on the wall
Where you'd marked your height
I still haven't seen you up close
So why was the porch light on?
How could I trust you the most
When you couldn't trust yourself?
Our love was a lurid spice trade
Every day a wilderness
We lost all the wealth we'd died for
In the red and the gold of being sure
You said "I made a conscious effort
To get all my vertebrae aligned,
But what's a posture worth
If it straightens you out first?"
But I was a victim like you
My shoplifted grace in hand
But how could you know me so well
When i couldn't know myself?
Are we supposed to forget?
How can we really forget?
I don't think that anybody really forgets
Their frozen feet
They're all we can see.
