November 2

This is your painful embrace,

delightfully tapping through pools

till you speak,

making walls, knees weak.

Couldn't you find words before?

Days dragging and time too short,

foolishness agreeing

this is truth I'm hearing.

I kept things straight in lyrical files

and placed past proof as delicious lies.

Perhaps understanding,

suffocating, demanding.

I couldn't find it--chemistry, doors--

whatever it needs beyond brief bliss.

I am left to hate

and reminisce.