I held you in my arms
whilst we writhed
caught in the embrace
of love, of love making
the makings of love?

We waited as long as…
We could to leave the house.
Your suitcase pink and heavy.

We stood outside the bus station
silently holding each other
not knowing that we would
never again be in one another’s
arms, embrace, love.
That our time had passed
that WE had died.

I watched your bus drive away
whilst the snows were melting
and I longed to melt too.
To melt into the porous earth.
To melt into you.
A you, that was already gone.
Gone forever.
Yet still I longed

She laughed,
brown hair seeming at once
beautiful.

Que paso?

She turned,
amber flecked eyes
fully feral.

“I knew them once.”

Tu sabia quien?

“Ten thousand sailors
solemnly searching
for the sea.”

yet still
she was beautiful.

I dreamt you last night.
Attending church with my mother.
You were there in the pew,
in the grey dress you wore to your grandparents
that Christmas.
You were beautiful,
but your eyes were not your own

We reposed in the long grass
sweating,
as the scent of gunpowder
lingered in the air.

I rubbed my sore shoulder,
and sipped sweet bourbon
while we wondered after
the ghosts of deer.

Walking back to the road,
there were tourists wanting to
have their picture taken
in front of a sign that reads
"Matanzas Bay Next Exit."

They look happy in their
bright polyester shirts,
and sunglasses

“Do they know that Matanzas means massacre?”
Sheeeeet.  That what that means?

An armadillo lays dead by the truck.

You wanna eat it?
“How long do you think it’s been there?”
Wuddn’t there when we parked.
“Can’t we shoot a live one?”
Shoot the dead one if it makes you happy,
But lets eat him.

And it was easy to love her then,
in the twilight of her beauty;
the soft grey hours
where we would forever roam
while the specter of her youth
still loomed.

Those late Spring evenings
Were our stage,
And the lonely Chicago streets
Our set,
And I the sun,
Which illuminated her moon.

The green light that was her eyes
Was a beacon
Calling to me
From some insurmountable distance
As autumn slowly closed in

So mud splattered
His armor tattered
In darkness and in shadow
Had journeyed a bit
The same old ****
In search of a Cadillac Eldorado

His beard long
This knight so wrong
His heart became a shadow
Closed his eyes
Still heard the cries
But not of a Cadillac Eldorado

And as his morals
Lost their quarrels
He came upon the wandering shadow
“Shadow” he croaks
the one with the spokes
the beautiful Cadillac Eldorado

Over the ghettos
Of Pompano
Into the field of the shadow
Ride, boldly ride
The shade replied
If you want a Cadillac Eldorado

The sound of loneliness
is the crinkling
of the plastic bag
into which you put your clothes;
you no longer have a drawer in my world.

The look of freedom
is you pulling out of my driveway,
forever.
I long for you to stare back at me
for my eyes are screaming all the things
that I was unable to say to you.

But you gaze straight ahead.
The turnoff for 89 south is nearing,
towards: Boston, Manchester, and Nazareth.