I, II & III

100 Ways My Life Would Be Different
I

At a younger
age, days spent
laying on back
on the other
side of the train
rails burried
beneath the wild
flowers – listening to
the gossip of bees
and seeing a sky
dotted with
purple and yellow.

II

Trips to a pseudo-beach where sand
is nothing more than combed dirt

aside a lake. Canoes rented, or rather,
the sleekness of a kayak – no,

canoes are more romantic, a giant,
rigid condom enveloping the entire

act, not just a portion of it. Center
of the lake, existing between the land

and the trees with no where to walk,
only a large mirror waiting to engulf you.

III

Untold dream – before
I left you – waterfall
and bathing suits, some guys
across the gap of water
and one wants to rub your
shoulders, knowing full well
what I am/was/should be
to you, but you ask, can I?
as if you didn’t even think.
Do whatever you think
you should do.
And then you are gone,
as if a pipe swallowed
you from the spot
and popped you over
to where he was. As I look
your hand is wrapped around
his exposure and you are
stroking, smiling, looking
directly into my headwindow.

Waking up in moonlight
in the room I don’t expect,
but am surprised, to find you
still next to me, having not
left me at all, but after surprise
comes a severe feeling of red.