is the sum of us
counted out into highway miles
between here and the ocean: two-
oh-seven the plastic
inscribed on the single room
key; three close
hours we fight
to keep the bed
from squeaking while your
four gushing walls tattoo
against my own
ever, a millisecond that melts
skin into skin & still
hurts with yearning; the backdrop blue-
lit bourbons spilt
through drip-
ping minutes of Saturday night
into the misty evanescence
of Sunday morning &
suddenly it’s five
twenty-five and unbearable:
the distance, the leaving in
darkness, the cleaving
breathless-ness of one.
the tenth muse 
That’s one sweet equation, poet
It is masterful in construct and execution!
And for all it’s layers, leaves a remainder of one…..
Beautiful
e
yep. though i never liked math much. thanks, e. 🙂
whew…there is some heat in this one joanna…sounds like a rather fun weekend….i def know the time and seeing it come to an end…that reminded me of when i was working out of town and only saw my fam on the weekend…the leaving in darkness, done that a few times…eeking every moment out…i could have interpretted it as illicit at that point, but didn’t…
“ilicit” is all in the point of view, b. 😉
def. some nice heat in this…and weekend relationships can be so tough..on the other hand they have their own spell as well…far away from daily routine…
Wow… Love the intensity of this. The phrasing and the rhythm and how you take us right there. Really amazing!
-Eva
I felt this got stronger as it went on, and the whole second half works particularly well for me.
This is my first visit here and as much as I enjoyed the poem I smiled more at the title of your blog. Cheers!
glad it brought you a smile. you’re most certainly welcome back here, anytime.
This captures the razor sadness of a long distance extra-curricular relationship I balanced about 15 years ago, and a rush f feelings came back. That intoxicating joy the night before, then the emotional bruising the next morning. I’d guess this is probably autobiographical, and as I gentleman I won’t ask, but if it made up out of whole cloth, then you’re the writer with the skills to pull it off. Loved this, and now I’m going to remember 1998-2000 for a while.
happy to have been able to take you for a ride down memory lane, Mosk. 😉 as to your gentlemanly non-question, as a lady i guess i shouldn’t answer. lol!
This is great. I especially like the sound of:
suddenly it’s five
twenty-five and unbearable:
the distance, the leaving in
darkness, the cleaving
breathless-ness of one.
Breathtaking words here.
thanks, Grettchen 🙂
Brilliant…captured with a snap clasp..the sinking depressing feeling of leaving in the dark…fantastic poem.
Can we get an extension to 5:25 AM Monday? At least Monday if not Tuesday.
for you, Carl, certainly! 😉
wonderful writing, a poem that lingers …