Painting With Truth With Another Coat of Denial
Just this once I’ll admit it
in this moment of weakness,
as the blues mix with wet memories,
not to dilute but rather to form a catalyst
flowing through my veins.
It finds the tempo of a primeval beat
as it mixes within
to become a blinding force.
Let me be open about it
just this once and not pretend
the words to be untrue.
That the answer to those questions
I have long denied, belongs in the stack
I won’t have to pretend the thought
doesn’t still rip all thought asunder
and push me towards a precipice
leading to a void never-ending.
Oh, no. Not to me.
I could not be so weak.
And I am not, not at all, not even a little
until I hear her name.
June 20, 2020
1:05 PM 1st day of summer
On the lake near the place I hear of in those rumors of home
(And listening to Chantal Chamberland sing “I Think of You”)