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{friend plus the side of a mountain} lisa gordon Can you tell your story without alternating syllables with sighs, you with an overcoat over a nightgown walking the lane at midnight trying to ascertain where the sob of a child is coming from? I've always loved you. Coping moods, the harried, the haunted thought that says it all – you know how to offer these at the least expected of times, you of the grey eyed dryad persuasion, your pockets full of cold lottery tickets. We could go drink tea now in the greasy diner, three blocks over, that empty shoebox room where you used to meet Him, thighs shuffling under the table, the look in your eye a story with a trap door – questions of trust & still you loved. We could ask the drunk in the lane if he's seen anything. I can't make out what you want from me unless you feel like telling – do tell, & then if the sobbing child won't stop we can make a new plan. |
