Finally Made Undone

On the hotel couch arm rests my shoulder.

Though it’s cold I know it should be colder

as I wonder if she shows—

The wind is cold, I think she knows,

and on the pavement a Saturday chill blows

outside where the city lights glow.

Then waiting near the window rain

a young man lost has found who was in pain.

So at last she could be mine

laying there sunny in her prime,

weeping to the songs and sleeping on the line

between right and wrong this time.

Though it couldn’t happen to me...

I really think it did!

Though 19 going on 12

something happened to this kid

that made him stand up on her uneven ground—

made him rearrange his rage

and finally be made found.

Her longing words leave me bereft.

Light is wasting outside yet we haven’t left,

and my reasoning is fired

when my scorching fears are mired and

I’m waiting now like when my years were shyer

for hers to make her “tired.”

But with no traces there to sound a warning,

this curbside night was taken up in the morning.

And certainly it’s the case,

I’ll never forget her eager face

or let my old fists pick up their hateful pace

or let old fears take their place.

Though my impatience was rewarded

and our act was long awaited—

Though this kid’s dream of suicide

was all that he had slated—

The rest I traded in for her gift left not repaid

that she gave me in that shade of waking

when I was being saved.

Now my happiness knows a fatal dream,

for rocking the cradle I’ve fallen out the seams

with a head over my heels

that’s pushin’ me past meals,

that was given when my body had its wheels

and when her breath steals!

Now we're waking with the sun

after setting off that bomb—

Though healed we're never done

for we're addicted now and calm

with the peace of mind that only comes from

falling in a lover’s hold

and being made undone.

NEXT

--Porter Daryl's Poems