And then a darkness

Posting one of my own for kicks. A voice from the heart, mostly iambic. da DA da DA da DA da DA. 


  
And then a darkness

I lost me in the restaurant. Yes.

I lost me in the spicy wings. But no,

before the wings, before the greasy dripping of the wings.

I lost me when you handed me the napkins.

The giving of the napkins made me love you.

The giving and the arching of the eyebrows that said laugh.

The giving and the arching of your eyebrows going gray

and saying laugh, and saying funny, glad, and it can happen, have me,

lean across the booth and kiss, right now,

the one whom love has zapped you with.

I also lost my scarf that night, the silky purple one

with deeper purple fringe I’d had for 20 years.

I lost you too, somehow, that night — no, not that night,

but later. How that mattered. 

I’m 52 and didn’t know that I could be

so deeply purple lost it’s almost black.

I’m 52 and didn’t know that I could die like this,

with a memory of your hand outstretched toward mine and then a darkness.

K.R. 4-2-14
Voices carry.
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