the c so beautiful

’tis like when achilleus gave away his body armour to patroclus
and he had to make do with odysseus’ ill-fitting
loincloth. i can no longer walk through your garden in my own
shoes. what’s left is a shed full of half-finished canvasses of
happiness with dainty little clouds rolling in. ’tis like when the ironmonger
had to relearn how to blow fire. did you hear the other day how
someone retweeted a google earth twitpic of the loch ness
monster? life could be kind and full of surprises
sometimes. i saw you once pick up your boyfriend’s changes off the
floor of a 7-eleven. ’tis like when helen gave paris a tap on
the shoulder on his way to needle the lion at the door. you might mean something
but no one would notice. i am sorry to have gone off the beaten
track i will try one day to bring you the world in the palm of my hand.
’tis like the time you put a stocking over a mannequin. everyone would
recognise you as the bank robber, he and everyone else said.
perhaps i will hashtag @yourname and @ashbery in one breath
and only you would understand what i mean. we are after all
together in this world, and what god had united let no man put us
under. ’tis like waiting for the river to flow again between the leaves
of the lemon trees. i have never wondered how two slices of lemon that had
lain on a girl’s bottom would taste like. i know. i’ve had them many
times. ’tis what my baby daughter feels towards her mother’s milk. i can never
get enough of it. ’tis like nothing else.

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