Jan-Mitchell Sherrill: Two love poems
70th Birthday Of the Boy I loved in High School You felt what I gave you, shivering the propulsive physics of that movement. What, all these years ago, connected stars of an unclear figure flat above us? Come with me to the river again: we will test Heraclitus, kiss deep at the tender point of sleepless change. Physics is against us. We move away, we pull again, the glass-green beetle barbed to your skin. You whisper, " Go, go, go." Fifty years. Creeping cats hunt lonely among cemetery stones. I am in you, I am in that river. I am gone. -- B Flat B flat is the note. It kills me, not despair but the scraping of the spirit from hard edge, the painted eyes, from nothing. Oh, it is us, sorrow the fugitive balance, the humming tedium of twitching wire. No touch preserves us; music hurts, air burns us. I will forget that indentation running down the center of your chest; the fit of my hand there, the finest-tailored glove. No truth to love, sneering riddle, the bang, chop puzzle of need, desire.
Copyright 2021 Jan-Mitchell Sherrill
Vox Populi 
And I cannot find that boy I loved in high school. But there have been wars, snd disease, snd deaths and fantasies die hard
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