three poems for seven eighteen twelve

i am restless
so i go looking for some old scrap of paper
hunting down a memory so fresh
i can smell it

heat
grass
paper
a little shade thrown around the yard
maybe covering my bare shoulder

i felt things back then
really felt them
deep in the bones
and it seems that only after much convincing
you could be persuaded
to let me share the electricity with you

i could always sense
disconnection
the far off look you must have had in your eyes

onward

(you were never meant to be mine)

and there it comes again
haunting me
so I've got to keep my restless hands moving
busy

onward

---

i'll let the sun shine on us here
you are the rock
warming in the pink morning air
i am the lizard
that splays out
letting your radiant heat
tingle my toes
and work it's way into
my reptilian bones

---

today you seem older
a more distinguished brow
your face fuller than i had remembered
but not in a way that makes me suspect gluttony

you talk to me
tell me almost brashly that
30 is the new 20
as if your windfall is a tangible thing
you have felt it
activebeatingcelluardivision
there in your hands

you furrow the brow
and i am filled with understanding
of your conviction

belief is a powerful thing
it shapes continents
and moves feet

but my muscles need stretching
it requires an effort
to make myself believe
that in fact
we are both older
and maybe strength of conviction is enough to fill a man's face
to satiate and make him healthy