xat's blog: "my poetry"

tonight
a concrete heaven balanced precariously
atop the needle tip skyline
& as it grew late
grew darker
everything became more black & white & stone & sober
even the people were pale
frozen, gray, & bloodless 
midnight was suppose to have stars, but not here, not now & it seemed no one cared




i was cold
two layers short of warm & common sense, even though there had been enough proof
of winter for the past several days
i had decided style was more than substance
& that what i was wearing would have been plenty
to repel the cold, & yet attract the eyes of men
but the opposite prevailed, it seemed

i was alone waiting for the train
standing silhouette against a black rail
wondering distantly about an old touch, he had a warm name & soft eyes
& staring at the track made me think about
the long road i still needed to travel
or something like that
i really don’t like to imagine myself so badly poetic
but it’s where i was at the time, beneath the rock sky that night
feeling empty with my eye to the unseen horizon
& weeks from my birthday

i had met a man nights before, but i wouldn’t even let him hold my hand, though he smiled
& laughed generously with me
there was a something twinkle in his eyes
but a star of look was nothing...
to the moon & sun of touch that wasn’t there
& the architect in me knew
that something was wrong with this false roof of hope i had tried to build over us




i heaved that blood & stomach feeling
whispering a small, cold



...no




i struggled there in that moment, but managed a
[he was a nice man]

but he wasn’t

him...



so that left me here tonight
thinking as i gazed into the blackness
& i wondered where love, or that chemical reaction
called love, had gone...

suddenly
i despised that stone moment
i hated the train
i was so tired of coming & going
i wanted to be there already to be home...
[home]
beyond the fall & crash of clumsy party hours of stumbling sleep walks, delirious with dead dreams...if i could run only far, & run fast enough
to throw off the hands of my inner damnation



i might yet stop the endlessness of thoughts of him
night-dreaming, night-yearning, & nights lost
to constant desire of him...



i might yet drum the bumbling female from inside me
& awaken her from the twisted dialog with my heart
i might move, i might move on

i might



...i just might




a light comes & clamors magnificently down the metal artery
open to the air & proud of its motions
inside people are sleeping
their meager belongings of hue & tone
clutched close to their chests



i step forward

as the doors close...

m