Radar

There was a way that we always spoke--
gabbed--about old times
then when I did not know you, or you me
and we shared stories embarrassing.
It was always late;
How easy was our talk, our late night sessions,
encompassing, merging
your and my past pain into
our pain and then new laughter

But we speak no more.
It is a long time since our
late night confabs blasted insecurities
apart, sitting on the floor of empty
apartments, backs against walls,
stereo on the floor, CDs between us
and, time gone by, will I share
the stories of our stories with
new loves?

Are we destined, because of love
like DNA of spirit, to echo in all my love to come?
Will all the love I have be the sum of love I had?
Dare I forget you, never repent, never change,
never let you change me

The Truth, shades and dropped veils
of passionate dances, fading memories
bounce on concave shells of memory
walls
And I know, there is nothing new under the sun
It is all a re-run
changed and customized to taste, but
should one love taint another
God forbid I learn
or that honesty outlives the weight
of the acoustic volume of our joy back then,
the echoes and fidelity are only for me
and kept well in my heart
no matter the disturbance of their destruction
or who new will hear them
Who could I love, but who would hear the
re-telling
and laugh
(with us)

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