KindOf NaPoWriMo #3

April 6, 2008

Tell a story enough
or intensely enough 
and it becomes real, or
indistinguishable from truth,
if there’s a difference.
That’s the transitive property:
If a = b and b = c then
b and c must be the same.

So if I nodded vigorously
when she told me of
her love for John Donne
and expressed amazement
at the coincidence
that on that very day
she too couldn’t get his words
out of her head when
what I couldn’t get
out of my head was
a vision of slowly sliding
her panties down with my teeth…
but then years later,
long after the taste of
her perfume had faded,
I found his words turned
bitter coming from my tongue,
she having made me
end where I’d begun…

Well, isn’t that
some kind of holy logic,
the eventual prophecy
of a burning glyph
that allowed us to
consume each other
and know from that
something of truth?

Tags: KindOfNaPoWriMo, NaPoWriMo