Author’s Note: A response to “Chronology” by Diane Di Prima
I felt desperation, some define as love,
Flooding my veins,
I knew I would never be worth anything
Until I received a man’s love.
Your sweet untruths
Encased my mind in
I dreamt that your teeth fell into my mouth
I didn’t tell you
And I quietly spit them out
onto the floor.
The thought came to me
That I cannot do this anymore.
The light flickered,
As I held your coat
And you fled to L.A.
January comes and your
Warm snow skirts the rim of your left nostril
And my anxiety absconds
Into epileptic shaking, chattering tooth decay.
From all the cigarette smoke
Held in your iris.
You taught me that love is transient
You taught me that the stories are true
I could have only learned these things
From a tragic figure like you.
Encapsulated the room
As we stroked each other’s palms.
The used condom decorated your shelf
The condom we didn’t use.
But this is the path I did choose.
I wanted to be used by you.
Because I wanted to find truth
But she has been hiding in the rug beneath your feet that you never tread from
She lay there, unable to breathe,