The only love which has lasted is the love which has everything, every
disappointment, every failure, which has accepted the fact that in the
end there is no desire so deep as the simple desire for being with each
(In this silence I openly weep
for all the lost time;
for all the inconsiderate acts
of my own behavior;
for the lost love
in the myriad opportunities of a lifetime.)
Standing by the road seeking a ride,
you wave me down;
directing your way to the Gun Club.
Your incoherent story
belying a state of mind
desperately seeking someone you’ve abused,
in the name of your love’s most stifling suffocation.
Your staccato rambling of pain
causes me to reassess the risk we have taken
in allowing each other this close to our lives.
I try to console you,
but who knows how you will draw your next breath
or what you will find
from this man who has left you for another woman.
“She’s stupid,” but is not the heart of stupidity
when we drive away what we least want to lose
while leaving ourselves anxiously bereft?
(Sadly, I must give this in a prayer for our healing.)
lloyd marbet, 1-18-2000