the uses of poetry .

 They  think  manliness  means  hard  withdrawals
 the  sharp  emptiness  rips through  me

 but this man ---
 hes not  afraid
of  growing  soft
in me. so im  soft  on  him .



i think of the  vast  betrayals  we live  under
why  does this   small one   hurt  so much ?

 the w ay he  left  me :
 like a  phantom like a  demon
restless and  cursing

neruda says ' keep quiet'

Some years  after he became  quiet

 The trembling hands  wrote  again

 Crawling  towards  making   lines  perfect

 The words  reeked  of rebellion , this  strangeness  well  bonding   with  time ,

 The  thoughts  spoke   in terms  of  his memories

 And  yes , his  voice ruses    my  creativity .

Wrestling  with sarcasm ,

I wrote  of days and   the night   hiding passion

 Little   by  little  , I left him

 Louder  by  louder, he  set  away .

Eden  was dead  as  ash  with his  smoke  lasting  on

Tears of  eve  played   with me

As  we, two, poured to  put the  cinder off.

Slowly , I etched   out sentences  with  doors  closed  to  a  lingering  insanity

‘rape me’ I  held , daydreaming  of beauty and the beholder

Tactile  world ,sensory  landscape  where  tangled in a  word , my  imagination runs  wild.

Muse  in me___   the not -precious  humanity .

A gentle breeze. Blue sky.

A time maybe, for  forgetfulness, remembrance , maybe .

“if  you cant  bring yourself  to put  anything  vital  on  stake   for your   lover- not your  right arm , not  your   left  eye, not  your  hypothetical heart ,why  embarrass  your body  with low  grade high voltage  interactions”

 Says  a  writer  indoor,

 People  forget  writers

 So  I  did  forget him ,

maybe

A little of  him was still  left  in   me .