losing another lover, 1981

He was lost again, alone
marking his way through the daily deceits,
keeping track~there will be a bill
in heaven and he will just
put it on account. Perhaps
I am sick, he thinks, knowing this
is no relief. He is lost alone
and again he searches
his hands for womb or mouth
to speak or cough some new
life out in this cryptic
torture chamber. You used to
tell me, "anything", whatever else
you used to do.
He kicks the dog across the room.
My errors equal my fears.
You were the silver in the mirror.


This is a poem stemming from my relationship with Becky Bradway. That summer, 1981, I left Pat and started living with Becky, and it was as if everything about our relationship changed, in an instance.