in my clumsy party hat
you made me bat and bat
vivid green; was i your stoney bow?
not yet mellow and not yet green enough
it never occured to either of us
the writing past the syllabus
and i dreamed of fairy god mothers
and you left without laughing at that
i write on all your kitchen walls
at night when the world has loftly slept
i draw my tears past the imagined frames
and ask in the name of lazarus
for an occasion to purchase you wine
past stonewell, past the narcissi cliff
where the ocean is in cains til now
in my memories, the only place
where you exist, i associate birth
with deliverance- in times of Godly
intercession, you flamed up at my
hopeful percussion, you and your
circles of clean afternoons
me and my laconic drafts full of the blues
i use to wait by the phone, by the door
by the drive of attitude you always
liked me for; in my nyquil dreams
the rain always near to my skin
i couldn't fathom it being so rough
tho i've walked past the gallery of sorrow
and all that left is a photo of the rain