Surreal Signals
Watching the world
was always our favorite show.
Stories not written until
the currents of the crowds lived.
I shared entries of my diary,
eternal darkness and sparkling
quiet.
Red wine didn’t help but
the munchies saved me
and so with truffles
and chuckles we shared
a bowl of junk.
On the balcony to our apartment
we planned the future:
With a telescope we’d later
see the most beautiful stars;
One day we’d be swinging on
the deck—interlocked,
our days would
start with singing birds
while they showered.
During the week we’d
venture together in
the woods.
Thorns broke my skin
but with gentle pressure;
you sucked.
Friday I went alone.
I got lost when you
worked long hours.
When I got back
I breastfed ticks
in the shrub.
I waited for your lovely grip
and reassurance—
promising we would
only explore together.
When you were gone
the house fell and cracked like
a snow globe.
The smell we called home—
wasn’t there.
That night around 3AM
wood caressed my spine
and I went mad.
The blanket was never
the warmth I needed.
I wanted you home but
you needed a break from
the cracked globe—
dreams that shattered.
I howled with the wolves and
ate candy to help me cope.
I had fantasies of children that still
lived in our bodies;
little grizzlies frolicking—
on the yellow slide and
checkered squares; we relaxed
wrapping our bodies together;
happy and in love.
Behind the white fence we’d
wave to our neighbour,
fauna and pine,
admiring the climbing clematis
and bushes we planted
together.
Our favourite show
had changed.
Now we watched our legacy,
snacking on home-grown
berries and fresh bread;
rocking together on
planks you crafted
laughing and dreaming—
tonight I laughed alone.