The Poetical Quotidian
Thursday, May 20th
by Richard Delval, 5/20/2004 08:06:24 PM
What do I remember from that day?
I remember the sound of the painters, diligent
alien men, covering up the stains and cracks
that our hoarse shouts had created.
I remember your beautiful crazy eyes,
your indecipherable expression.
I remember studying your voice,
your controlled whispers.
I recall feeling suddenly both warm and cold
like when you plunge naked into a hot bath on an icy day,
moving your body through air that chills your skin
as you compress yourself in anticipation.
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