This is Who You Could Be
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This is who you could be
while watching Catherine
adorned in pensive musings
her carefully fitted corsage
her bijou bodice of embroidered dreaming
gaunt, straight faced
pouting the truth.
You could taste the intimacy
Some misshapened miasma of death trickling out, in the downward slouching
of each corner of her paling lower cheeks.
You could surf the smoothed out surfaces, the sunken tones of
her flattened syllables, already razed to the ground
then there was the word, cancer.
This is who you could be while watching Catherine
touching her bravery
You could know this if you were me
Cruising on auto control into the quagmire of cancer's rainy season
sodden and outwitted
queueing up for the finale
inventing a state-of-the-art chronology,
remorselessly courting each virginal moment
unabashedly flirting with the sweep of fortune's bridal train.
