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.
followed by a homecoming.
you take my backpack from my shoulders.
your hand feels large
on the back of my head.
brought you into my life
on our strange disparate journeys.
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.