4/27/97

(This was written while I was living in Lawrence. This was a pretty good year. I was working as a prep cook in the mornings at Buffalo Bob’s Smokehouse (R.I.P) and enjoying life. Wonderful times, beautiful women, and lots of laughs. I treasure that year.)

That night was so dark,

with an electric sky,

like the ones before the storm.

I remember holding your hand,

you seemed to laught,

or was it a sight?

 

It was you, regardless.

 

With a burst of lightning,

I saw your eyes.

not only the eyes themselves,

but the pain that lay beneath them.

The loss…

Heartbreak…

unwilling to let go…

until now.

When I looked at the pain,

it ran away.

 

A mirror of my own.

 

For a minute, that flash of light brought home.

Then the flash was gone.

 

Though I could not see you,

I felt a change.

In the way things were.

In how they would turn out to be.

And, just for a moment…

I felt me.

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