Truncated Stanzas for Astrud

The muzak is Kruder &
Dorfmeister. The Now is Thursday morning. The Here is kitchen, mountainside,
faux mahogany everything, a tireless clique of chair-sofa-chair.

The Moment is lashed with the
faint song of water dripping somewhere. A child babbling. A dog slurping milk.
Or Water. Or Blood. Or a fresh wound.

Home is the world, polystyrene
and glassy under a bubblegum sky.

Love is orgasm restrained. Of
trying not to come until you lose the need, the urge, to fake it.

Love is waiting. And looking
back. And shielding the eyes from the sunlight.

Solo el fin.

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