when we were one, we made damion
—tim hardin
the heart and why of colin
because of our natures, our conversation
sometimes drifts to the intimate
because I am open, and like the sound
of my own voice, sometimes
he knows more of me, than i of him
~
it is dark, the highway north
is nearly empty, stretches featurelessly
into the night, our words float and dissipate
colin is driving, i'm watching my reflection
in black glass
it's nice, the ebb and flow of spoken thoughts
we've made this trip a dozen times
from the city to the vineyard
~
we talk about instinct, intuition
how it is that we know what we know
how it is that we are friends
how is it that we react to people as we do
how is it that we fall in love
we talk about love
~
how do we know
~
we don't get anywhere, conversationally
falling into companionable silence
but too many miles pass
the quiet becomes something else
something uncomfortable
until colin says, almost to himself
i was engaged once
~
we met freshman year
she was sixteen, i was seventeen
it was more than love
or it was love and something more
she was from a religious background
she was chaste, and though
our passion . . . burned deeply, we were chaste
there was no doubt of our love
and no sense in waiting years
to fulfill what was meant to be
we told her parents
she would not disobey her parents
her parents said no
~
that night we slept together
~
colin is quiet for a long time
~
in time found we had made a child
for a week we thought we would be parents
for a week we were a family of three
then came fear
fear of repercussions
fear of the unknown i suppose
fear of fear
we went to a doctor
afterward, after the emptiness
she transferred to a different college
and asked that i not contact her
Poetry by one trick pony
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Written on 2016-02-19 at 02:20
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