Friday, February 12, 2010

Her Memory of Me.

From my bird’s eye view,
the clouds look like frothy waves
on a sea of sky
and somewhere down there
deep in the ocean
she's sipping on a glass of bourbon
leaning with her back to the kitchen counter
where she reframes memories
of making love to me
as something cheap, and thus,

It's hard to see me from where she stands
but I'm no stranger to distance
and so I'm still here.