I thought I was sending you a verbal postcard
a truth telling set in simple words
but instead you were blindsided by a face card
wild but not suited in the hand of your needs
no, not a partnered response, as in bridge
but maybe more so heard
as an adversarial raise, as in poker
that I did not know we were playing as such
I guess I put truth-telling
in a chip-talk set of shared circumstances
and it was not taken in the first order way
it seems to me as if it was a game of fortune
and yet pronounced as breaking your heart
pure for what I said for me
but you read it your way
and yes, I played it, yes
can’t take that back
the game for then was either bigger
or the stakes were higher
than I ever thought
it was not an us-game as I assumed
it was more like a me-you turned contentious
there was no, repetition of saying it
with different tones to make it different
I tried that in my mind to myself many times
but it was a dumb original verbal move on my part
for the discovery of the game we were playing
I thought I was playing in a sky of game,
us from another universe, as visiting
but rudely discovered it
all to be very earth-bound
with drama and soulfully unintended hurt
can’t undo that avalanche and the fallout
and the follow-through that came dreadfully down
nor the timeline that had lingered,
the revisitations that seem to ignite of themselves
any replay of it, is new all over again
time does not wear down or dull it by replays
truly, stick-matches spark but once
steel against the flint of us
carry on, it seems, forever,
didn’t sense the forest of you to be that dark
and the kindling to be so tender
and the fury to light up that sky
where we each come from
most recently before we, in this time, met
maybe before this life or far earlier
but definitely before
oh, the trip-wires that I didn’t see
but crossed without ever sensing before hand
my pockets are empty for excuses
I am a billboard posted for accusational reads
nothing to do but sadly wear it all
as if a canyon wall of steep vertical on display
for the fury of mind-fills revisting
the restimulation and the agony for you
and the echoes to past hear-fully through me
I am not your hurt but feeling it
what a free-fall into this unknown
didn’t realize the eventual blessedness
to come my way by these means
so hard and fast and enduring the imprint
long and deep with conviction as from recovery
your version is what actuality is made of
mine was a dream-state
that this reality could not agree to
so now from then, I am a light
that only casts shadow
as a means of mutual perspective consigned
oh I have a want for growth to come
as a kindness that leads to a deeper opening
but this was not that
yet much richer in the long run
grateful now
to be on the other side of disheartened
drama is, was, pictorial
but not any of the bottom lines
now the dance comes from beyond the beyond
of what any stories about us could pronounce
I have a deep reverence in this shared aloneness
knowing beyond what aloneness professes
now the dance is so much larger
and truly deeper
than a self of me in this life
ever knew of before
I feel for the stream of us
and not the self of storied containment
we have now the whisper of soul
without the burden of personage
in overdraft . . .
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