Midnight, Some Distant Autumn
07/16 2021
To be needed, and to need someone back
To walk the razor's edge of schizophrenia
Is my, and your reality ---
Portrayed, nay, reflected in our image
Yet I stumble at the sight of your face,
And mine, as we go astray.
I'd like to picture our meeting:
There's a parade that we ignore,
Fake fanciful things never interested us anyways,
I might dismiss my friends, and work, for an hour
You might dismiss yours, not that any of it matters
As we sit smoking cigarettes ---
In the rising sun out your open window.
No, what matters is the need.
The attraction between north & south,
East & westbound have no place here.
A photograph, a single video frame ---
Of heat, and memory, and ink,
All reverberate into a vivid dream:
A facsimile of your face.
Like a peeping Tom I assemble the pieces,
I want to get near, only,
I realize far too late,
My version of you isn't you:
It's me, gazing into a mirror.
The street is empty now,
The ink pours onto the ancient stone,
Just for my amusement, you should know,
And of course, for my imagined pain.