my fingers read you

My Fingers Read You

As the fog mingles with your cottage through misty dawns till levitates into

my fingers read you

One day I climbed two trees, tall trees
so that I could look down on you as pine cones do and

enter you from above

those other nights the katydids sang into the screens
where we lay in silent motion picture form

a caption appears every so often when needed for
reassurance

as if you were never even there although

my fingers read you and

my hands complain of power

Mornings were ordinary in their humor of
the waking hour that subconsciously distorted last nights

reality was so hard when the shades flew up
in obedience for the new day laughter was abundant

and always available for… for…

All those misty walks into dinner meals. They mearly remind
me now, what fun it was
in hand and body and eye when we stared into

mutual blue stained doorways

The hemlocks when they made ladders to the sky
where creeks fed them and we straddled those
stepping stones in mind of where we were

and why we were in such a dangerous position
yielding all of our confidence to a rock
founded by water

footing sure I became tired of those days
of cloud cover and sank farther into the
Quicksands of the past

My awareness was perfect, my awareness was perfect, indeed
my awareness was perfect

You stared through me as if I were a piece of quartz and
found those crystals there inside that are so delicate

one photon aggravates them

It has not been long since the forces of thought mended them
and what little power do I have to stay them

now they are dingling because
of me and you
and neither of us know what
we will do in the future as time minds

all those packages that were unwrapped
night and day for us to see
weren’t really meant to be by you
or even me for our hopes

were beyond and we settled for what we had

and wanted

we were convenient and we served our conveniences

our thoughts mingled your tears fell from
honest wondering as we talked
in camouflaged hopes never to exist

in this realm

How dumb was I not to see that from
Out of that weeping came what
couldn’t be said

but you didn’t have to

That last day I remember and
hope to forget after years of ware and tare

to the gray matter

I won’t forget that day and as far as I know
you, you can see me in the world
of the weird

for I will exist there in belonging and beyond
you will I stay

but always a mistake I make in winding with you in
fantasy land, but never will the opportunity pass me by

for and until the last day in the mind

my fingers read you