Run After

He said: I run back and forth in the dunes
I was unconscious I was left in places that only
come after certain hours of your voice
when your face extinguishes and brief city lights
fill me up with small corridors the innuendo of a parlor
women speaking in lullabies coming and going
reminded of the absence of men and men’s words and deeds

I felt a sudden grey presence a kind of grounded sorrow
I guess it’s time now
winter snowflakes and raindrops falling over your hair
in my hands fingers and lines and sunken words no poetry though
and suddenly it felt so serious
your laughter