FINDNG OURSELVES.

the aloneness has a color

something blurred by memory,

something like a stranger's face.

you've got all the answers

when questions are as indiscernible

as passing clouds.

I know that you

can feel lonesome

even in a crowd.

I remember you the way

that a man wants to be remembered-

no arcs or frames

just waves of precious metal

a Mercedes with a moon roof wide open-

stars that were never really

our friends, anyhow.

Somehow you have a language with the beach,

the way kings have coins for eyes.

When I remember you,

I remember finding ourselves

alone in a room.

I remember finding ourselves

at extraordinary distances.

I remember finding ourselves

deep, in trouble.

I remember finding ourselves.