Member Rara Avis
perfume, talk of jadescapes,
stars alight anew.
she was easy to please me absurdly
with feelings unrestrained.
love's sweatshirt smelled like holes,
even as she spoke of concrete iron.
after the last two threads broke apart,
i knew no mountain view.
little prayerbook she sent in the mail
to get me by on through.
the glossy picture leaves and poems
blinded with their hues.
every waterfall had a rainbow,
every boat a settled reflection,
every house a new england tree,
every snowscene an unlived blankness.
stapled sermon of votive candles
dripping forever frozen wax.
she wrote inside the front page,
but instead i read the back.
some mississippi mission's manipulation.
beauty through human composition.
not the actuality of god.
safe tidy faith: no dark nets allowed.
(c) 2000 Mike Chmielecki