Thursday, November 10, 2011

On Call

Something I wrote. It needs to be strongly revised. I think it needs stronger imagery and less "telling". Also, copying and pasting this messed up the line breaks a little but whatever.

On Call

I set out to rebuild you from old memories:
a long wool coat that kept you warm
nights we traversed through back country roads, the leaves and snow
crunching beneath our feet
nervous fingers contorted to fit my own

          I set out to rebuild our relationship:
staring at the ominous computer screen
digging through a junkyard pile of thoughts, writings, conversations
scavenging my brain for where I erred
broken pieces of a year gone by

                I set out to rebuild our friendship:
after being locked away I traced my way
tinkered and hinged to make you see
that it was only me
and I alone

                Memories, letters, snippets of deep late night conversation
they will not have your eyes
they will not smell like your coat with my nose buried in your shoulder
they will not make me feel your nervous hands on my face
or the song that echoed in that empty parking lot

I meant to invent the old you
And then put you back again--

--I think you saw this coming

1 comment: