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Tara Miller

Untitled
Will's MasterCard
Smile
8/4/97

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Untitled

You're so right
what a horrid place this is
a tomb of responsibility
cobwebs of obligation cover eaves, drip down walls
and spiders long dead catch no flies

you escaped as the jaws snapped shut (caught just the edge of your heart?)

i'm watching the moonrise, a pleasant silence from fear
now the geranium, stock, cinnamon pinks
raise their faces to the West, scent the night
mint soaks in rain
dog near the bed warm & curled
garlic & sauce simmer
bread in the kitchen
sun & clover honey poured inside this morning
spring flowers reseeded
earthworms feed on garden dirt

but i know
you're so so right, dear.
a place with light & life moving like this

is horrible,
must slither & crawl, decay before your eyes

do hope you find that cut crystal villa
where nothing moves
the illusion of the clarity of sky, so deep you can't focus

clean & transient
as ice.

~Tara Miller, October, 1998

 

Will's MasterCard

you buy your sunglasses, leather jackets, goatees
& a cheap date at Manhattan's, huh?

Dyes her hair
all those things

never coming down for you
from the roof
softly 
from my deep blanket of 
pine, oak & soil

so I know
you'll sign that receipt
& try to own some part of a world you can't touch

for  a moment

while i'm kissed by breezes, sun, water
tracking it through
the forest.

 

Smile

You finally went past
or I did
I'm finally far enough
to have it in focus
you won't even hear
the door close, love
My smile will remain.
hiding the tongue 
that's slid over your skin
for the last time
did you know it was the last?
No...
you breathed in my hair
and thought you saw eternity.

 

8/4/97

didn't want to hear your
version
or your lengthy
analysis
of what it came to
what happened & 
at precisely what moment
you think it would have been kinder
if I had slit your throat.

 

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Copyright 1997 Tara Miller

 

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