Monday, March 05, 2007

Where is my poem?

The day you said you had to go,
we stood at my door and looked into eyes,
which had been windows to god,
in bed and out, for many months.

Our elixir, incapable of ingestion by many,
open-eyed prayer of intimacy created together,
shared with joy and peace.
I let you see, I opened.

From behind your strong walls,
I heard your words,
and through your smile and kind eyes,
"I can't wait to write a poem for you."

Words that didn't come
when we were lovers,
still haven't,
and I suppose they never will.