misgivings of a prolonged dementia


in the cold, snow-laden winter’s end
cloudy but sunlight slips through now and then
she stands on her front porch time and again
cigarette in fingertip between two chiseled lips
augmenting the misery laid bare by the sky
and i shamelessly gaze from the whites of my eyes
if only she’d notice, surely she’d reply
to the summons hereafter, be it lament or laughter
dare i discontinue this fervent crusade
for a fate henceforth awaits such masquerade
where fences decay and gardens lay staid
she’ll know me the dearest, unmasked disappearance
though it’s all for the sake of misinterpretation
when she forgets to pull down the shade before she...
but make no mistake, i spare none to forsake
reverie which i’ve all but foreseen
and i swear one day i beheld in my muse
a knuckle tapped on the window to her room
cheeks blushing red, frostbitten against glass
but my eyes saw mere blindness as i sauntered past
in defiance of time and its damaging effects
from one outlying vision to the next
i reach for her heart but grasp mere silhouette
and my soul, burned and blistered
from chances i’ve missed
still i aim to be virile, suffer sorrows, unimperiled
by realities i dare never mention
but i’m forever lonely, and granted, they’re only
regrets of a prolonged dementia




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