Caught up with an old friend, yet I did not speak.
Henri resurfaces with a penny for the weak.
While Andalusia walks off with a hundred six
& the quarreling has reached its peak.
Feeling disconnected, en-vi-ous, at a loss & fix
no flowers, no wine, no televised pics.
Nothing left resembling the well-lived life.
Long haired & a belly to absorb the knife
of immeasurable loss, quickness to disregard
the details & dimension of their business cards.
Pose the husbands, each & every wife
what made their hearts grow hard
like a stone that came in with the tide
bearing crosshatched cracks running side to side.
Faded blue though once deep maroon
sitting barely visible beneath the moon.
I sought to add it to my collection
wading further out into the black ocean.
