Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Waiting For Tristessa



There is a restaurant where they serve me your voice on a china plate.

No matter what time I go there,

It is always dusk

And the waitress has fireflies in her hair.


There is a garden from which the lilies have all been stolen.

No matter what time I arrive,

I am always too late for the wedding;

Too early for the wake.


I'm telling you,

I have stuffed my shoulder bag with moonlight.

I wear a locket

Which is like two halves of a broken heart.


Every passing body on the street tells me something different to do;

But never mind their words.

Come tonight at seven--

I will turn your linen napkin to a bird.

I will request a second setting

And a vase of pale white blooms.


If it grows late, and you haven't come,I will stay

--no matter how long it takes--

I will wait for you.

________

9 comments:

Kay said...

Dusk unto Dusk...so sweet and charming.

Shadow said...

this is sweet!

G-Man said...

....Like a stone.

Daryl said...

So romantic ..

Mama Zen said...

The images in this are stunning. Gorgeous writing.

Lou said...

You have talent, sweetie.

Maybe publish some day?

Anonymous said...

Beautiful.

Scarlet said...

Tristessa, la pobre, the hopeless romantic. :)

Riot Kitty said...

I was going to write about the images you are evoking here, but Mama Zen beat me to it ;)