Elegant Goodnight

There have been delicate moments in today. Reminders of things that once made my heart race. Heralds of future quickening. Faint breaths of beauty. A line. An inkling. A desire for the savory over the sweet. An appreciation for certain brands of unpleasantness. An understanding of my own shortcomings and where I always manage to steer it wrong. I am almost always looking in a mirror. Not because I am enamored. But rather because I am curious. And accusatory. I am at fault for whatever was lacking. I am the reason it's never enough. I am serving out my sentence with the slightly sweet remainder of dying flowers and a bottomless glass of a very bitter drink.

Was I ever lovely? Was I ever wonderful? Was the fascination false all along? Or did it falter?

This has been a season of withholding. I wonder whether crowds will be bowled over when it's time to turn things loose again.

When my writing goes all cryptic-like, I know there are demons to contend with. It is easier to speak in poems when the ugliness is churning. There are beautiful ways of saying very ugly things.