gigondas

This is about one of you / maybe none of you

Dancing like lovers
gracing a stage,
she dipped and brought his
body to bear
against
hers;

with ear now near lips,
she whispered,
" I know you're hiding,
there's some darkness
that keeps us apart.
Let me in, let me ..."

Hungry kisses. In bed,

he laid awake wondering:
could she feel the heavy,
fluttering
beat of his heart? But
wondering was one thing



...he couldn't open up.
It felt like a proper
and an astutely
primitive response. That
which is hidden cannot
be stolen

you see,

there were omissions,
events shuffled and narratives
composed.
It was a deft manipulation,
an unfortunate prison,


and now,
trapped as a character
in his life's own play,
he had no choice

but to finish this act
which seemed
to have no ending

and less,
and less
relation to meaning.