Unseen
Glacial with indifference or roused
to effervescence by the scent of shame,
she was opaque with power.
Yet I cared for her with tenderness born of tolerance
painted her face in cadmium blue and goldleaf
sewed cabochon rubies to her lips, tear drop pearls to her ears.
Together, we had planted lies, harvested chimeras
toasting ghosted opulence with whiskey, neat,
dribbled over tongues made anxious by recollection,
heedless as the fogs crept in, nudging her askew,
until today it is 1945 her sixties the thirties or mine
and we foxtrot jitterbug hopscotch nap
throw tantrums throw parties throw curveballs and stones.
She is lightened, at the start; a burgeoning translucence
accentuates her charms, fosters a girlish exuberance.
But the lightness fades, crystalizes,
its transparency, a brutal lens, reveals the fragility
of the myths that bound us, their tenuous untruths.
She fades as well, forfeits to the ease of the shadows.
For a while, I watch our symbiosis shrivel.
When it is a wisp, I abandon it–and her.
Unfettered, I am incandescent
in the way of lava hissing over a cliff.
I lounge in gossamer silks, travesties ablaze,
belting my anthems to a tangerine sky
luxurious in its indifference.
Her memorial is woven by other hands,
the pomegranate velvet of her raiment embellished,
its corrosion masked with gaudy fabrications
and slivers of ice masquerading as precious gems.
Just before the last pageant, she surfaces, ancient, bent, regally discomposed.
For a moment I capture her gaze
before she unsees me and slips away.