After all of night’s magic has faded away, dwindling down to nothing but the glisten of dew beneath the cool dawning sun, that cruel spray of light will rip lovers apart.
For when lovers cease to be enraptured, fumbling toward clothing endowed with doubt, laced with fear, rejection and shame…
beneath the surface where we could not see one another through that reflective prismatic membrane… down beneath waves in an ocean of time.
Our meeting was not the frothy crash one might expect between two long separate bodies; more a subtle swallowing
of pride, an exceptional chance encounter between worlds, between men, emptied and refilled and accepted – we drank each other down.
you are my sustenance
you have long nourished my soul in a calming deluge of possibility, a commingling of creation and interpretation – your intoxicating mixture of unspeakable talent with benevolent decency, such rare treasure
is my honor and privilege to behold and to bathe in, to witness all that lies beneath
all that others seldom see.
How could anyone observe such strength and such frailty, such passion –
Who could spy such longing and not find themselves quickened?
Such stimulation can rob mortal men of decisional capacity.
I had no choice but to love you, you see…
And yet I find that I decided all the same.
I chose to embrace the experience of you, to appreciate it for what it was and what you were, I opted to be vulnerable and to be strong, and then finally I agreed to follow that untrodden path wherever it might lead.
You are the decision that has changed my life forever.
You are the choice that I made that I have never regretted.
Walking into the cold city darkness in my not-unpleasant, whiskey warm stumble toward Claritin-D and embryonic friendship with stunning young man who unknowingly rips me in half with answers I don’t have concerning my partner’s state of mind.
The truth is there’s been almost no time to enquire in new scheduled madness… but the truth has never felt more like a lame excuse.
On the way back to gay sports bar, after kindness in complimentary never-ending hallway with the book that apparently nobody wants or needs, we again stumble into unknown territory on another subject I feel I should better grasp as it borders on both experience and uncensored friendships which have somehow (again) left me lacking coherence or apparent depth upon current recollection…
Yet I must question if these memories are accurate or merely rambled here for dramatic effect, for an audience who demands that I write but refuses to listen.
The real truth, the more appropriately honest fortune cookie wisdom crunches open beneath Poetry Table instructions for impromptu musings…
When all I’m thinking about are new people weaving in and out of my experience which dangle here in disarray to be encompassed later in organized impressions.