Delusion

III

when i knew you by days—

by chance and crossed paths—

i made believe to be brash as

cold tea in a green mug or

cold words on a white slab

i was scratching with your pen.

then—

shades of evening

and hushed guitar strings

smoothed the unevenness of

Allusions or Illusions or Delusions

that lingered on air

tinged by the notes of an Aeolian harp and

my hard gasps for breath in those
Spaces where you won’t keep me—

II

I awaited his glance—yet it fell not on me.


But I am happiest, when I stagger under blind delusion...