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poetry
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Over on sundays we would cook dinner together, flipping through cookbooks in search of something new oyster risotto and paella lamb with sage, rosemary chicken there were many recipes from which to choose countless cookbook pages many Sunday evening pleasures to finish the week off right off to takashimaya, list in hand, retracing our steps from last week and the week before a path now so familiar and comfortable excited and together as always, hand in hand all the way on warm evenings we took dinner outside on the balcony dressing up as best as one can the white plastic table and chairs enjoying the space transformed by candles and table dressing amazed each time to see the wine bottle empty, and the hour hand nudging eleven but today was different, as we spent the morning and the early afternoon forcing the word goodbye through throats closed tight with fear and pain it wasn't the first time we've tried, to be sure but today was surely the last after numerous poor attempts we finally had what it took to do it right: tears and sobs and prepared Last Words, five hours spent shaking in each other's arms wishing to god there were some other way i see her off at the door, just like always she looks over her shoulder and forces a smile through the tears tilting her head back in that way she has wanting to say with a look "i'll be okay" but she knows she won't, and I know she won't and that courageous smile crumbles under the weight of it's own absurdity she hopes I didn't see it turns away and is gone her fading footsteps and that failed smile destroying my whole world still... |
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Copyright © 1999 Denbushi All Rights Reserved | |||||||||||||||||||||
