Friday, May 1, 2009

Not There

and then not there
was my experience of you.

It was like throwing myself
off a high place
and falling
falling into the air.

I wove no net
like a fool
although I knew
the danger of the rhymes
you wove in conflicting colours
the warp and the woof askew
for me and everyone else who knew
your great exposed depths.

For eight perfect days
I knew an artist, a magician, a man and a child.
You were there
and not there.

It took the air
out of my body
like a shock.

Like a blow
the heavy impact
of having fallen.