It was one of those pictures
where the trailer is better than the film
I woke and looked out the window,
fingers between Venetian blinds
the street was there, cars, houses,
aerials, rooves, clouds
but the only important thing
was the horizon
You kissed my naked back put your arms around me
and said how happy you were
and I smiled and said something sweet
but the horizon
was the only important thing
It still is

He left her, he travelled to get away from his love
or maybe to get closer
but the horizon was always in his heart
I guess he was one of those curious types
curious stroke dissatisfied
He was always aware of the terrible gravity of the next morning
or the next town, the next train
He was never really there beside you
his mouth was on someone else’s lips
Contentment didn’t come into it
Each time, the name of the hurricane changes

I am submitting you now
to the acid of memory
When you began crying, at that exact moment,
all the finches flew up out of the grasses
It was just a coincidence, I guess,
but it has stayed with me until this time

When they find a new planet, I’m thinking of you
How the light grew diffuse
and I turned to kiss you
and the evening seemed to ask me to follow it
into you where beauty was still real
The moment seemed to swell
and I wanted to cry because you believed in me
The light was poised
and my life seemed suspended
I waited for a vision
I waited for the world to speak
and it did
but all that it said
was utterly pedestrian
Inside me,
early evening stars appeared
and took up their customary positions
above the fading horizon

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