Tuesday, September 30, 2014

two cigarettes and every minute of eternity

the first minute felt achingly protocol -
silence implored
by the pure weight 
of words such as hers.  

i lit a cigarette hoping, that 
by the time of my exhale 
i might have formed a response 
bright enough to spark pardon 
into her tone,

yet something in my smoke lungs 
begged another drag - 
after all, 
no woman i could love,
would
cheapen her words 
to the worth of  
solely my response. 

one thing she taught me - 
no woman in the world 
wants anything in the world 
but to be listened to -  
and heard, 
the kind of heard that begs silence. 

the second felt justified, 
as if the first had been
the learning curve; 
time but to assemble - 
our past sins approaching 
and now face them, 
ready and patiently. 

i was apologetic 
that's a fact, 
yet even the guilty - 
comprehend mercy 
deep inside themselves 
wanting 
there to be 
something she sees - 
worth letting up for air. 

the third felt like subtle affirmation, 
like a long stop and dinner, 
then the climbing back into the truck 
for the next leg of the road. 
we were poised to brave the on and on.  
(there is a dark side of a full moon 
a danger in - 
even the sunlight; 
but there is joy in forward - 
toward the direction of what our hearts want, 
even, on the days that we don't make it there) 

i lit another cigarette, we 
were echoing each other's breathing 
full gasps of life - 
in and out 
like westbound transcontinental-locomotives 
nearly through the desert, 
nearly home.

the fourth felt like healing 
the fifth and sixth like resurrection - 
yet something in my smoke lungs begged another drag, 
after all, 
the only woman i could love, 
gave me two cigarettes
and every minute of eternity
to truly hear her, and 
in so doing 
form the only response  
worth such a beautiful voice. 

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