He was not Tall
She was not Beautiful
Together
they were
Stunning
Their fingers laced
poured forth confection
Irish creme
Dulce de leche
a deadly combination
heady
rare
addictive
to which no
one
was immune
At parties
often asked but seldom attended
they
separated
graciously spreading the gift of
Themselves
from room to room to room
"You are so lovely tonight..."
"You can't possibly be that age..."
to every tired threadbare
countenance that made
its way across their stage
'though it was no
act
who they were
was
who they are
and had been
evermore
Still
Still
beneath them ran a
Sorrow
that
spoke
of LivesLost
You know she can't have children
of DreamsForsaken
He could have been a surgeon
of LonelinessUnbridled
They are never not together
which was
True
True
but it is not loneliness
Yes darling I know
It was rather an
Un
willingness
to face a minute more
one without the other
Why should we
When there have been so many
Lifetimes
spent apart
spent alone
Lifetimes
spent languishing
in other arms
at other hands
Lifetimes
spent listening
always listening
for the sound of
a voice
that voice
the voice
his voice
soft and swollen like a bruise
her voice
warm and smooth like scotch
voices that know
voices that see
voices that hear
from one
Time
to another
Take me home
Yes
Take me home
© s rogers december 2008
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