Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Lifeboat

I am old.
A forbidden child
climbing over the garden wall
in search of a view I never should have seen.
My body quivers,
and my legs falter.
I am alone,
a rare antique
in a world of then.
It does not seem possible that so much time
has passed.
Half asleep,
I am full of the echoes of Manhattan
and Los Angeles.
My dreams, that grew up in Texas under the summer sky,
the day of your face,
are borrowed.
And still,
I can not let go.
I see you everywhere,
wearing a red Burberry coat.
Your wife
beside you
refusing to speak to me,
or even acknowledge I exist.
I think of your children
and begin kissing your neck
over and over.
How many years
since the Hollywood Hills?
Since the night of the party?
You,
driving off,
a fish
in search of the sun.
Me,
sipping my broth,
lying about my life
and our future together,
floating about on the open sea
in a cement
lifeboat.