Next Parlor

it occurred to me suddenly
when I was sitting by the fire
I thought you were standing there by the parlor
your body covered by a silent still light
no sounds no movements no games of shade and light
just your body
and then
then for the last time
a sudden irretrievable impulse
forced me to stay

I wanted to haunt you I guess one last time
I wanted to tell you some tale
words of kindness made not of fire nor ice
a green shadowed word where your shape
could grow and dance with no soil resistance
where it could pay me a visit from time to time

but I’ve grown impatient full of doubts and woes
no green god will grant me more time
just this dull silence
imposed by my body standing at the door
thinking you are neverthless standing there
naked in the next parlor

no thoughts no words no gesture
it figures
just your body
that kinship bond of your silent presence
(what in you makes me resemble to closeness)
no word can restore me to