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July 2001
Powder

"Powder" - 7/31/01

in silence I
hear the color green with such precision
that I envy myself
my own memories

a voice is nothing more I believe
than the absence of silence
and for this I am grateful to be
heard and hand-painted by your own

the sound of you
rings through me with a weight of church bells
so heavy I start to philosophize
from that place

far underground
gravity meant for bodies, not thoughts
nonetheless my mind
is deep and dark now
like chocolate or the idea of loss

with what can I
face this silence now
there is music dripping slowly
down these canvas walls and laughing
- - -
out-of-reach as this red sofa
where I lie is held
in mid air, floating
and reaching for the sides

of my center that surround
me on every facade
of this room and remind me
of the hearts beating outside this building

where I build my voice
and where
(my sweet)
we have sung
in diverse tongues

and slept together while singing
as though there were an
audience
as captive
as dreams

and painted
with brushes of light
on walls of
full moon

yellow-gold
and smiling
against the sky
of powder blue

and red
and white
like a flag
or a soul

on fire

remains

"remains" 7/18/01

I am...
changed, by you, I am more myself than I was
before you kissed me
(in that hotel room - the first one -
after saying "I am not myself...")
when all was still that game
I only played to win
or to amuse myself
with stagelights' shine

but somehow now lightning
is my friend and
rain is clean where it
once polluted
my smile
as white teeth
and too much effort
left me soul-dry,
no matter the weather

but in missing you
I am still whole
somehow
though we'll have to see
(through rhinestoned glass)
how long
that lasts
before I need
you to say
I am "yours"
like laughter is yours
or your favorite color is yours...

I would not presume to know
without being told
or to impose
such passion
upon you
so bold am I
though in
your
hands
a bird
small
but
strong
and
still

remains