Chega Saudade
I read in a yearbook
Pauline loved me back then, but
I overlooked her note, didn’t know
Her train was even in my
Station, and yet I wondered…
Why the fuck couldn’t she have
Just told me?
Maybe she didn’t love me enough
To say it; maybe hers was a weak
Pulse, a faint mauve cloud on a
Sunset imagined, to which I
Wonder if such a love would’ve been
Worth having?
Age demands ever larger brushes,
Ever bolder colored walls.
Clarity in strikes and shapes,
Tantamount, for
So much life is wasted on
Unnecessary subtleties to
Please the sensitive ones.
Reacting, so easy; not so
Genuine steadfastness.
Stone-cold Stonehenge
Sucking the heart out.
Colder than Pluto,
Warmer than Mercury.
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