I was amazed by how long this poem took to gestate.
The encounters it refers to began one March, and ended in July. And although I was aware of what I have written about at the time, I focussed on the physical. It was, after all, a physical affair. I tried writing about it in May and June, but it was another eight months before I realised that the pysical was a metaphor for the emotional, and vice versa. When I finally came to sit down, I wrote it in seven minutes flat. Being an irony-junkie, I am very aware that I would not be treading lightly if I sent it to the guy it is written about...
Treading the Earth Lightly
I had not realised how much I bit and scratched.
But you must be given back whole and unmarked;
and our time together must be un-noticable.
So I halt and hold back.
Return to my mind.
Restrain my self a little, and move on
here, and here, and here instead.
As it is with our bodies, so with our selves -
A question takes you into private spaces:
you do not answer,
I do not ask again.
This caution is new for me.
I am learning how to do it.
To respect the life you have outside this bed;
to enjoy the interlude;
to thank you;
and, leaving no signs, move on.