love and forgetting, two sides of
two different coins;
one perceives the curve of a bowl as the raw egg sliding down its side.
the other perceives the egg as a galaxy, the uncanny sun some relish feeling
on their faces.
one calls across a distance, Yoo-hoo! Hello there!
one calls across the yard, You who?
one prefers the ornament and the closed-mouth kiss of morning.
one prefers French Horns and Trumpets with their hands down our throats.
peeling a banana, one is always posed in a thin white dress against a breeze.
one scoops the last bit of gelatin from a Depression-glass dish.
one stands waiting, expecting something. wine, or maybe a storm.
the other comes like a horse gone days without water.
one sees a woman on her side, her stomach like pudding in the dark.
one sees nothing but the moon-drawn tide of one’s own body trespassing into the night.
love is so short,
and forgetting is so long.
Notes From the Fire 