telling your life

when we first met
it was your tears i knew best

the cool kiss of october
was new when you sang out

despair:

There is no point
There is no God
There is nothing.

I have nothing

and love? What is that?

despair:

There is no money
There is no home

did i tell you

there is no God?

and love? What is that?

When next we met
it was your heart heart
I knew

your voice,
your laughter
but still

despair:

I am alone.
I am alone.

I am alone.

and love? What is that?

despair:

I am old.
I am tired.

I am so so tired.

and love? What is that?

Finally,
I held you
Kissed your forehead
sang to you in whispers:

love:

this is sunshine.
this is silence.
this is sleep.

and despair? What is that?

love:

this is frost
this is friendship.
this is forgetting

and despair? What was taht?

Hours later,
while you dreamt
of a white picket fence
that was yours

Minutes later,
when you called out
for your grandmother

Seconds later,
after you ran away
from everything

I whispered:

October... that was love
do you remember
the first leaves
to fall upon that
rocky path, we ambled
toward the beaver dam?

October... that was love
do you taste
the last drop of honey
in this cup of tea
steeped in our history?

October... this is love
but June, but July,
but August, but September

they do not know.

When we first met
i painted you in the autumn tones
of cool sex and sharp stars prickling
our snowy-white asses

the kiss of October was french
and new when you cried out:

desapir

love

October

 .. i am lost
i am lost

lost.