Friday, May 2, 2014

He Talks to Her, I Talk to You, or Did, Reading Dostoyevsky

1. I don’t know what to say, he said.
She said nothing.
He went away and stayed.
She saw him on special occasions.
When he was exhausted,
when he wanted to love her
which must have meant
he wanted her to love him.
She did, he worked in his office,
stayed out night after night.
Endless. Remorseless. Crazed,
he brought the ex-nun home
to meet her. You’re like a man
possessed, she said. I am? 
Demons rode in the saddle of his soul.
The ex-nun read books for a living
now. She should know.

2. You came in, lover. Angry, forlorn.
You wanted me to give you time
away. You stayed. I called,
you said, I’m not coming back.
You were adamant. I left myself here.
You came back. You slept
on top of the bed. Clothes on.
You must have feared me.
I thought of many reasons.
I would write to you,
and did, from far away,
but never mailed the letter.
I went farther away.
Thinking. Loving.
Going off and staying. 
Don't dwell on the dying or the dead.
Give the horse its head.

3. The ranch is very quiet.
When I work I get work done. 
I am loved again. Imagine.
The horses graze the canyon floor.
How far I have come. This deep.
Demons stare me down.

(2 May 2014)

copyright 2014 by Floyce Alexander

No comments:

Post a Comment