March 24, 2009

  • revised

    It intruded on our evening,
    slithering in through the cracks
    that we tried our best to ignore,
    adding weight to the air
    drying out our mouths
    so that our words crumbled into sand--
    unsubstantial, dusty clumps
    never getting any farther than the floor
    where they fell with a gentle poof
    and scattered.

    And we got so thirsty for
    the truth
    for more than the truth
    for something so true that it
    couldn't possibly exist
    (but which we wanted anyway),
    that we drank each other up greedily
    not ever mentioning that this wasn't a dream
    that this was real and it cut
    through our brains
    and drained the blood
    from our hearts.

    We never brought it up--
    you just don't bring these things up!
    not when you're busy
    building something else
    out of sand
    that refuses to stop
    crumbling.