If I took a sip for every thought of you...
Too many drinks make a hazy head –
A thin line ‘tween clarity and peering through a traffic of images
For the harmony of your tenor,
For a stupid, goofy grin
We both once shared.
In drabs, our souls drip away;
Though the clear transparency of your tone
Mingles with my opaque dossier,
One look is not as simple as one glance used to be.
Reliving through a blanket shell,
The “mirror darkly”, the apt quote,
Now feelings fracture the edge of new circumstances.
I collect them in a decanter,
You see, for my pleasure
At reconvening evidence, pocketing it
Like copper coins. You abandoned
Your place at one whisper –
Hold on to sailors' hats! He’s done it again! –
Yet, simultaneously, you crept away
Into a veiled concept like a spice element amongst my dew,
Performed a tidy show for all the eyes,
But neglected my introspective, skip-a-beat type care.
Instead, I play with the remains of my alcohol.
I thought I heard a strain of some lyric once –
In the dark, that sound might be you –
Or it was a simplified version of hope,
Threaded by some Demon
With a promise of a sweeter success
With a headache.
Forget the chorus and the organ
Or the “operas and musicals” in mountains of my taste;
I want to hear your solo,
And the lightness in your cocktail accent,
And your questions – unimposing for now –
And every word, unspoken, that will follow.
An affair of the soul, indeed!
If flirtation begins, the thirst must be quenched;
If one eye closes, it must be opened by the other.
I drain the last of the second cup,
And the memory of your smile
Is nothing more than fingermarks on the glass.