Vapor Trails
Stain of last night’s nosebleed
on your pillow.
Sinking.
I was thinking of something else,
dreaming:
awash in light
you and I floating
in a religious triptych
angelic sort of way---
not really choking each other out.
not hung up on mortality.
but perfect holy bodies
making love to eternity.
Wrinkled bed sheets.
Ransacked drawers.
Sinking.
Knowing instinctively
your shoes will have walked away;
your toothbrush
has found its way from my cup.
I let my guard down
just long enough
for you to steal away
and the stealth your steps
were made of
was almost of floating
in a religious triptych
angelic sort of way.
I’ll wash the pillow
and the stains on its case,
stand on my balcony
and look for your footprints
in my morning dew.
No notes.
No lipstick on my mirror.
A half-eaten bowl of cereal.
Just like that
you’re vapor trails.
4 comments:
Beautiful...so haunting! May I say that the contrast between yesterday's rant and today's poem is my favorite thing about your blog?
Intriguing to say the least...
Thank you. I get a bit worried about taking poems out of the Sometimes Sinister context. For example, here you have a poem that talks about a nosebleed that has no indicated origin and a woman leaving. Out of its context it becomes and almost spousal abuse type situation, but if you know the plot of my poetry project you know that it's about a man who falls in love with a cokehead, explaining the nosebleed in a totally different way.
Ah, but that's the beauty of poetry...a really good poem will stand on its own regardless of context.
Knowledge of the poet and their intention just adds to it...damn, my intro to poetry prof would be so proud!
By the way, my roomie really liked your Calgary reading...I'm gonna convert her yet. And my poet friend who was there said it was the best he saw that day- and he's damn critical! Coming back down to Calgary anytime soon?
Maybe with a bit of luck I will be able to secure a venue for a reading in Calgary again. I hate only being able to get down there once a year. The people treat me so well when I visit.
In the meantime, though, some radio station might be broadcasting the reading as it was recorded that day. I'm not sure how that would work what with mention of donkey punching, Cleveland steamers, and drug abuse in my subject matter, but you never know. Maybe Calgary radio is just more progressive.
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