A Theory of Moments

In the way that The struggle for a remembrance Is strong enough To exclude other remembrance Last summer's dalliance by the lake Under evening's ombré sky Drawing its dark hood Over lawns tossing squirrels And pullulating fireflies Released the confabulated throating Of his anima in bassoon notes To squirm in the chamber of his mind Fueled by the blood-wired danger Of their clamped hands Fused in the narrows Between parked cars As their nuanced sidling Took them unpredictably Toward the hotel coffee bar Linked like strung-together Paper cutouts she in front Passing the parking lot's Flanks of tarnished concrete Near the sun-topped lake Shimmering with orange gyres Against a nearly sleeping sky Carelessly emboldened By the discarded evidence Of flogged cigarette butts Beaten bottles and a forgotten shirt "I didn't fix your toilette" she said Apropos of the pang of chill That permeated their passing Through the revolving doors Blowing essence of snow In the temporary space Forced between their hands As they whirled apart in the entrance A brief cruel season capable Of turning a frisson away "Did you ever think that squirrels Experienced déjà vu" She wanted to know "Leaping between trees, did you?" Together in line at the bar She read her fortune in the lemon icing Prinking as in a crystal ball Through the illuminated case While outside eve wrapped more Exhilarating hood across the lawns And the world fought to intrude Behind the counter with The silent fruit and pears naked Like cartoon labels Workers leapt to and fro Pouring milky cappuccino "I'd like to see him in this dress, wouldn't you?" She laughed from within The envelope of conversation That protected them So their words flowed out of earshot Like gurgle dropping through plumbing With a glance over the customers He fubbed disinterest enough To cut the two of them From the Cartesian product of relations In the Starbucks queue Just at the moment when Giving his hand a squeeze She said "Upstairs"
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