Dear boy
Actually it’s Tuesday, and I’m taken aback.
You rang me up three times and said I can explain everything
into my voicemail. You know perfectly well I believe nothing worthwhile
is explainable. Dear boy, don’t be so literal.
I’m not sure if you were there or not. Did you want to be?
We can make something up. Perhaps it was you I parasailed with
above the Mediterranean? I think I remember you now; my young love!
You complained that the harness was hurting your balls.
We had such plans. We were slung between sea and sky. I tangled your legs in mine.
We were a knot in the grain of the world.
Suddenly the sea was a blunt spur at our heels, remember?
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