Sunday, November 15, 2009

Lead Day In Bed

You died from me again;
came back in red gown,
bending from hip to lip,
pulling keychains from your mouth.

Explanations are still strangers
that don't age past decades.
I know your middle name.
I know where you live --
on the be ever early hills,
flatlined on glens.

Love as easy as a smile.
Every boy is your father.
I wanted to be your lover
not your dad.
Dead before leaving.
Sad before dying.

You dare throw pebbles
on Narcissus' pond,
but unwilling to grow roots
by the bank.

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