Losing love is like a window in your heart… said Paul Simon

Sounds breezy, sounds exposed

Bugger it, I’ll go to Graceland too!

I’ll take Barbara. We’ll bounce together, we’ll blow together

I can explain, she said

I wake up with a grown man’s fist squeezing my heart ’til the only thing that helps is to sigh

Steel guitar

For a short milisecond or two, as the veined hand approaches from the dark, I rest, suspended in peace

I will myself, like a master of lucid dreaming in those first few moments of semi-consciousness, to stay unaltered,  in that state: not to remember, to take another trip

Then the punch connects, tears beyond bones, past intercostals and clamps around the warm bundle of bruised heart

Drumming

These are the days of reality and human messiness

Of disappointment, of anger, of loss. Grace gone

And I wonder if the boy in the bubble had it right after all?

Oh, It’ll pass, it is passing, I know.  These are the days of miracles, he says.