The shoe in
wasn't so much---
not even in the slightest
the way we thought it would be
We were so far from over
that I figured out how to begin
and the only thing that made me smile
was the sound of a prelude--
with a piano
that somehow always sounded like Sesame Street
But our street was much more ingrained
in a black and a white
than the sepia tone I remembered it to be before we existed
And we were the only antidotes
to an endemic malady
and in the heat---
the heat of the night
with the window open and the breeze hovering---
asking permission to come right in
we would always measure our hands to each others
in unfailing reverence of the asymmetry
beautifully composed. I wonder how the prose would read differently if it was phrased in the present tense. Either way, there is a real fluidity to this that, I think, makes it a candidate for periodical submission.
ReplyDeleteChange shoes hold hands and be happy!!!!!!!!!!!!
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