Wednesday, September 2, 2009

A room

Tonight I watched YouTube footage of Sandy Denny that I'd never seen before. Her ring and her slender bangle on her wrist as she played "The North Star Grassman." Her hair, so blonde, a curtain across her face. Her voice a big, rich flag unfurled; her body slightly tense through the shoulders.

A first draft. I got out of bed to write it. Rob is worried that I am thus losing sleep.

Glove Box

I smell the blue cotton
of your dress, taste your smoke,
touch the red hairs of the dog

in that other room behind the sheets
in that other place my copy lurks

a demi-me, a portion, what little soul
will slip through the barrier

a pair of hands, a pair of eyes,
some half a mind, heart split
as, elbows bent,

I search the room spied
through the dim glass
with only music to bind us

they say you can never enter a room
without taking something
without leaving something

and I wonder what dust of my skin
I leave on your body
as I pull back

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