And its
indescribable
Seems like
the end itself
Became the
startling line
At least for
me, it is.
I’ve been
unapologetic before,
But this
time am forced to,
Or it’d be
nothing,
At such an
intesity, pretention vaporates.
“Didn’t know
being blamed
Can feel so
nice“, I read,
And it
could’ve been
The end of
the world,
Or it could
go on forever,
I’ve had enough in those lines…
Someone had quit watching
In the middle of a movie, after the scene
From ‘an officer and a gentleman’,
Debra Winger’s forlorn look,
With her hands on the pockets
Of an old housecoat,…
As I closed the outer world with a blanket,
Told the surprised room partner
A Ghazhal singer on the next bed,
That one look is enough,
Even from a motel TV set…
That singer made it into an anecdote
To share with friends the next day;
I was that someone with
A proud smile despite labeled romantic
As I stood in that cheery group;
But now detect derision
In that sepia printed nostalgia
Embedded in my memory
I have the real thing now,
And quit in the middle
To sleep off again…
