|
jane
|
this whole album, dummy, will never cease
to remind me of a san_francisco
afternoon/evening
kissing a lady
running my hands up her vertebrae
she was foreign to me then;
even more so now.
she has every right to carry
any angry flame i have ignited,
though i believe life itself
has eclipsed that burden
by now.
you are not forgotten.
i have many regrets.
as with many,
i treated you poorly,
flippantly.
i did not recognize your human-
ness. your power. your heart.
i did not know how to interact with you,
then,
now,
ever.
you remain a mystery to me.
|
151207
|
