Blue rabies flows in the morning mirror –
one of a handful of simple pleasures left to me.
The exquisite pleasures once taken for granted
continue to burn somewhere now out of sight.
i’ve been dreaming of the one i can no
longer talk to...a dinner out, holding hands
on my porch...all the things impossible for us.
she doesn’t buy into all of this and lets her scarf
slip back to rest on a braid so as to be just inside
the bounds. Two wisps of hair, carefully
programmed to fall into her face from behind her ears,
further send the message she feels trapped here.
we have snuck off a couple of times, so i could just talk
to her away from the rumours caused by wagging tongues.
For me, things are not complicated, but for her it is
like being forced to do astrophysics on an abacus...
because that is the world we live in. i would love to
take her far away, where i am just a man and she is
just a woman, where we could laugh, kiss, watch bad
movies and just live according to our own rules.
Still, blue rabies flows in the morning mirror -
while I am left alone with my thoughts on the exquisite.
By Steve McKennon – December 11, 2002
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