(Forging ahead)

Decisions, choices, forks
In this long, long road...
The big ones seldom seem
As important as they really are.

I'm not sure what I expected really.
Perhaps some cosmic guideposts.
Or a talking GPS for My Path.
But what would it say?

"Careful, sistah, this next
Step is a doozy"?
Or "Whoa. Take a breathe.
Don't be a stubborn ass"?

Hell I'd settle for a vague,
Hand-drawn map of the
Territory...perhaps dropped
From the celestial pocket

Of some careless angel...
Perhaps cliff notes from
His terrestrial journey...
But I reckon

It does not really work that way.
"The play is the thing."
My path is mine to live
My way into, I must forge ahead

On my own, stubbing my toe
And cursing the stones in the road,
Making some mistakes so often
They are my travel companions.

Late Last Night

Late last night
I held you in my arms
And spoke passionate
Words, my hot breath in your ear...

I asked you if I had it right,
Finally, if I figured it out...
If only I could have done this then...
Would you still be home, still mine?

And you looked a long silent
Moment into steel gray, your wide,
Soft brown eyes, gold flecks
Blazing...and whispered "no".

Then you turned away, and again,
Dwelled in that cruel long silence.
Perhaps because it reassured
That other who holds you captive.

Or perhaps you hoped I'd finally
Turn away from you, too...
As though I could ever turn my
Face forever from the warming sun.

Now, awake, I wipe burning eyes and
Cold cheeks, I can still feel
You...and I almost want to hate
You, just so I can go on feeling you...

And so, instead, I let my
Eyes stare into pitch black until
They grow cool again...and I
Just roll over and curl up

With that empty space in the middle
Of my chest...a warped pet I've
Named Desolation. It plays dead,
A peaceful empty, single trick.

-- 10/27/2011 Dreaming...and waking...For J.