Sonnet I and Sonnet II

Sonnet I:
(a response)

I am thinking in differences these days:
a happy sadness meaning enough
to bleed it out over today and tomorrow
now yesterday frays from memory –
never knew how difficult just being was
until the differences mattered – I mean
the nostalgia is getting to me
here in London – escape is not quite in my grasp

as I recall a few late mornings
the first fraught nights
and a promise un-weaving itself –
entirely torn up from our differences –
tomorrow might be better as I try
to read as much as I can.

Sonnet II:
(a reprise or reproach)

I’ve kissed with some fucking passion –
I’ve seen your reproach from each contour
in face, through regular acts of fatigue –
maybe even hands behind the head
and bodies between each beautiful guess.
It doesn’t matter now the regrets are
holding hands over breakfast. Between
a quintessential look amongst past letters
as bastards are being born
screaming out what we cannot finish –
I’ve stopped plans of renewal
now the tiredness has returned
and instead accepted what I cannot say –
I don’t regret you at all.

(Yorkshire, England – July 2007)

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