There were two of us at the bar
where the common arguments of teams and dreams,
women, adventures, exotic misadventures
tottered around us.
The wallflowers of liquid gold
watched and judged us silently.
Then there were five,
a group, clique, gang, enough to hole up the holes,
a chaotic tangling of beards, laughter, perfume,
plastic eyes and helpless smiles
as vacant as the abandoned seats of couples.
We were all the center of attention
in a bar emptied of life and love.
And oh upon a dozen,
a party of fools and vagabonds
splintered kaleidoscopes of conversations and body fluids
into increasingly apathetic absorption of lives both
smaller and greater,
the atomizing architecture of lonely hearts.
The more we drifted,
the more I tripped inside the circles around you.
The harder we tried to stay apart
the more we realized.
And when we hit the billionth tally,
we no longer knew each other, and the bar we met
was a distant wisp of cloud.
We stumbled over
the speed breakers of distance and different atmospheres,
on winding roads that led to nothing
We put friends before our broken shields,
sacrificed them to hide our selves from each other
We built walls and drew dotted lines on imaginary maps,
then spilled some wine to blur them;
saw that only tears were warm enough.
When there were two, there was a universe we could understand,
a love we could share like the meeting of eyes across an empty room.
The perks of being unwitting wallflowers.
And when the distances were small enough for me to smell you,
touch the nape of your neck and whisper in your ear,
I found the fractals
of single moments;
I felt comfortably numb, and found the journey to the bottom of your heart
a pleasant ride.
So now that we’re so far apart,
with the broken Babels of love behind and between us,
what shrapnels my chest?
What causes the blurring tears,
in a crowded bar?
I guess I’ll never know the answers,
irrelevant musings on transition.
Questions now caught in fractals
That were once foundations, now form the painted skies,
stars we look up to see winking just once in a while
Now there are two of us at a bar
where the common arguments of dinner,
the baby’s naptime and kisses engulf us.
In a crowd of billions, oceans of gold and mahogany,
I watch and love you silently.