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I Walk Naked Into a Cloud
I can recall how
the midnight moon slithered
like a snake across the sky.
How a black and white
picture was snapped
of the morning sun
as it burst upon the world.
I recall how getting out of bed
was an invitation to begin the
angry words between us.
I seem to remember
your scent as it bled
through the room.
Watching your
gesturing hands
find their appointed place
in the conversation.
Your tired,
hate-filled hands
rising in fists of
aggravation.
We were caught
like a newspaper
story in the propaganda
of our myth.
At breakfast we spoke
in cliches and drained our
coffee cups as quickly
as we could.
Later at night you caught me
masturbating.
It was then I
realized
I preferred
to be alone.
