Henry Martin ... busy doing art

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Love Poem #7

By henrymartinhm, Jul 17 2017 12:14AM

Sitting.

Did you sit here?

Chalk of a husk—the sky—was

Yours like this?


I knew these roads before you,

I knew the indent of cobble

And the seagull perched on the tower.


Then you came like the rain,

And fell through the earth,

And out the other side—

There is no escaping you.


And the seagull flew away.


I’ve never seen the Irish sky behind you,

Pinning you in.


I wonder, did you walk?

What did you do to pass the time?

Who were you with?

Who are you with now?


I know them in the abstract,

I know them as ‘not me.’


I didn’t think of you one day last week,

But then it rained.


I’m afraid a terrible truth will slip out,

That you see me as one thing,

But I reveal as another,

That the sunshine hung in the corner of my eye

Is revealed as a reflection of it, and not real light.


These things I fear, I bear alone, and cannot bear.


If I had you here now,

Sitting beside me,

I would ask you,

Finally—


Did you sit here?

Like me? And,

Would you sit closer by?


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