Graspings #7

at many times i wanted to say no to him, with his hands cupped...
sooner or later the water will leak through the cracks between his fingers,
so i watch it slowly vanish
and thank him
for the gesture.

at this time in the morning i often feel an ache; somewhere, someone is calling me.
in my dreams, always, there is adventure. a friend dreamt i was with child.
what sort of wicked adventure is this? i find myself
watching her sleep and
wondering if the years had repeated itself,
if that old dream repositioned her bright translucent skin to
glance at me from another body.

my tenants' floors are filled with human waste. there are
unfamiliar names with unfamiliar arms. "mister Sparxx told us to call you m'am"
and little children's voices in the background. that life seems
to elude me. some sort of groveling, maybe glorious experience.
i pray you lord, some times i do
feel so far away.

life is a waiting game, and ive never been good at that, nor
have i had the courage to lay all the chips on the table. maybe
im just the same, but
from a different, muddier corner. maybe, all that crying
was me, with the babies, trying to hold
all that water with my hands,
offering it to you, to you, and you.

And you refusing, you, hesitating...

©hRj2007