Lament of the Unholy



I want to stare into your eyes for a long, long time, until one of us looks away

She wants to swan dive into the Ganges, scarves floating behind her, toes pointed to the sky

He wants a million lovers, a million ways, but when he has them, he’s never satisfied

You want to be deep

I want to show you a story that I wrote about you

She wants to be a woman, not a drinking buddy

He wants to free his mind, but he can’t get off the couch to begin

You want everyone to wake up

I want to spin to the music, my arms outstretched to the sky.  I want to whirl up, and up, and up, my hair a rising flame, until an invisible hand reaches down and pulls me to heaven, like the god of the Rastafarians

She wants to pretend that marriage made it perfect

He wants to be perfect before he calls her, but he is utterly flawed, and now she’s gone away

You want to open your heart, after forty years, and take a chance

I want to make love to you

He wants her to speak French in his ear

You want to hold my gaze, but you can’t, so you look away

I want to have your baby, a soft-haired girl with a foreign middle name

She wants to show him how to live, starting in her arms

He wants to believe that living is worth it, that he made the right decision to put the gun away

You want to change her pills when she’s not looking- Oxycontin for Prozac- and see what happens to her life

I want to tuck my head under your tee-shirt


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