Vanishing Points

Vanishing Points

 

(a.)

 

each verse and stanza is an inside joke.

our lives intersect once again.

three old associates

brought together by

coffee, cats and kismet.

we break bread

in easy companionship

over white wine and guacamole

as motorcycles putter in the street below

past jumbles of wires

and labyrinths of potholes.

that sleepless night as i feverishly sketched

the domed art deco roof of the market

on the back cover of a book

i thought about the pain and sweetness

and inevitability of parting.

now the parallel lines of our lives

that had converged

in this beautiful broken city

must again scatter.

we embraced and talked vacuities

of flights and schedules

so no tears would flow

until you are out of sight

a white speck on the horizon

as the tyres swerve and lurch

weaving past roadside offerings

and gaping fissures in the pavement.

stanza and verse

stanza and verse

wheels revolving on their axis

until they unite us once more.

 

 

(i.)

 

a farewell

followed by a homecoming.

you take my backpack from my shoulders.

your hand feels large

and unfamiliar

on the back of my head.

happenstance too

brought you into my life

on our strange disparate journeys.

phantom lines

that should never have merged.

protocols of friendship

that should never have been broken.

you say something innocuous and gallant

and i reply that 'cute' is another way

the patriarchy describes 'non-threatening'

and ask if you do not find me threatening

as i try to match your stride.

your laugh is not unkind.

my dusty sneakers finally catch up

with your cowboy boots

as the car door slams

and the engine roars to life.

and i realise how this too

must end in a departure.

a delicate dance

of fractured hellos and goodbyes

when the trajectories of our lives

intervolve and collide afresh.

gam zu l'tovah.

i know that this, too

is for the best.