Waxing

.A letter from Tsovinar
she writes
“Wish you were here more than anything”

Ahgreyeuss
smiles for a while
but says
“I am dreaming

                                     she didn’t write that
                                                                    Our love has waned”
So he sleeps
and time passes…

…he wanders in a university
                                           a beige building
mostly empty
he is looking
                                      distracted
He opens a door
                                           a room full of people
                                         playing instruments
                               wearing black
He sits with them
and says
“This is where I belong”

He begins work on a symphony

Leaving the beige building
he finds Tsovinar walking
                                                    in the quadrangle
and they lean together
                             kissing
His hand is in her shirt
Her skin feels waxy—
wax
like the covering
                                                      of Gouda cheese
Scraping the wax
he asks her
                                    “What is it?”
but she doesn’t know
.
.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS


Some of these poems originally appeared in the following publications

Avocet
Dream International Quarterly
mojo risin'
The Muse Apprentice Guild (The MAG)
Transfer

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