Sometimes they spill off my pen,
Vivid images color blank pages.
Sometimes they come tangled with
cliches, meanings hidden in
Triteness demanding discipline.
Sometimes they don't show at all,
Shy or stubborn, they have to be
Coerced, bribed, threatened, cajoled.
Where do they come from?
Who do they belong to?
Surreal images scream color,
Words run at me,
Fly past my head in a blur,
Catch at my mind,
Force their way through me.
Suddenly I remember the man I married.
I’ve been so busy remembering
the man I buried,
I almost forgot.
At first I tried hard to forget,
almost succeeding.
Now I try hard to remember,
almost succeeding.
I look very hard
out of the edges
of my eyes for
someone watching me,
but I don’t see
your eyes.
I don’t want anyone
watching me
leaning against a wall
slightly drunk, grinning
with Siamese recognition
Unless he has
your eyes.
Is it fear
that turns your touch
against me?
Your need sends
my love scrabbling
across the floor
back against
the wall, quivering,
battered child,
your love
an upraised arm
against me.
With this love
I will hurt you
for your need.