Wednesday, July 31, 2024


 —RIGHT NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TO HOLD MY HAND 

 

Calligraphy

 

   after Derek Walcott

 

everyone’s tipsy

so let’s dance

or don’t 

put your chin 

in the bow 

of my shoulder 

right here 

where I carry 

all the memories 

of us black-and-white 

and in-living-color 

a panoply of our regrets 

and stolen identities

everything broken can 

be repaired 

repaid or rebought 

you told me once 

in a black-out

this after the last

party had cracked 

and we were the 

only sober fools

you held my hand then 

and drew a cloud 

in calligraphy 

across my cheek 

with your long 

best finger

I was so fucking tired 

but rose up anyway 

to pull the blinds open

while the moon landed 

on your hairless chest

like a medallion 

or a coin of wonder 

that I was too afraid to touch 

but couldn’t stop myself from

swallowing whole

1 comment:

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