I am red wine and indie folk
She was beer and crooners
Dick Haymes specifically
We used this to transport us
To that door
Where body meets soul
To probe universal angst
And contemplate
The yearning heart
To swim in the salt of existence
Blood, swear, tears
Amniotic fluid and semen
And relive the joy
And bitter sweetness
Of love and melancholia
And allow the futility of it all
Drown us in grief
Life is just too damn short
We both were weavers
Crocheting minutes together
But we couldn’t create more time
She wasn’t ready
Neither am I
But time marches on
And our webs will remain
Long after the spider succumbs
But the spider will succumb.
103025 bjb
barb j beyers 