baking and other rituals that require your attention

May 15, 2006 at 7:18 pm (Uncategorized)

There is a man in my life by imagination only.

The rest on their way out by the force of my retaliation. I retaliate against the wrong word and the wrong action. The wrong decision and the wrong gesture in my presence or my wake. I change like the day changes with the passing hours of the light. It can be swift; but it is more likely sure and constant in the one direction he unwittingly pushes me in. At first light of the following rise of the sun Ill be gone like you didn’t know you wanted me to be. But you do, I know this as gospel and your actions/nonactions/intentions/unintentions tell me all I need to know. They speak of a blue-eyed, blonde woman allover your cyberspace dangling your violent hand before my face like a joke in the wind and with the cobra’s strike it makes at my heart, my tolerance and willingness to care, I bid you a fond adieu. And I wish you happiness with her or whomever it is that is keeping your time until she comes around.

There is a hope in my life by imagination only

There is a broken heart in these hands. Once it split in two. Again on another occasion one half was cut like a wedding cake and off went one slice, eaten by its possessor and shared with keeper of his love, not me. And this time I did not begrudgingly loose my frosting but rather I scraped it off and handed it over, never to be seen again.

There is a love in my life by imagination only

Im left with a cake that is old, dry and crumbly. I have to halves; one missing all its frosting, the other missing a slice. It was once shaped like a heart I think. Shiny, plump and full. But perhaps love is best when its been worn like a favorite old shoe. Perhaps someone is missing the pieces I have and I hold the ones they don’t. Maybe we can fashion a new cake out of our pieces and make art, abstract and beautiful. Maybe we wont ever eat it. We can just look at it in awe, this thing we made together, and hope it lasts a little while longer….

There is a space in my life held open by imagination only

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