You had one blue eye and one green
Just like The Wife of Martin Guerre
It's supposed to be lucky
But neither of you would agree with that
You were a flaneur
Walking the city
Recounting your past
Softening into the future
Your slim, leprechaun frame
Jaunty,
Punk-toed step
Made everyone Smile
Your long, beautiful fingers
Playing drums or gesticulating
Writing peotry, prose
Crafting wood with skill
At the end falling
Over the side of the bed
Like Marat's painting
Holding on to mine
When the morphine got low
We talked about existentialism
While secretly hoping
This link we had
Wouldn't end after death
We used song to say
What we couldn't out loud
All The Way
Blue, This Songs for You
We were like New Young Lovers
All the time wanting
But not knowing how
To get close
We danced tentatively in your house
Not making too much of it
A swing, a sway
A glance of recognition
Your mother used to dance
With whoever came home first
She loved Frank Sintra
(Old Blue Eyes)
We discovered late
We had lived as teenagers
In the same suburb
Pronouncing Heidelberg without the 'l'
I remember the boy dancer
Waltzing the clumsy girl
A Virgin in the Town Hall*
He/you holding me
So expertly, so securely
Feeling I could dance for the first time
The female singer was singing
The mirror ball
Lighting the room
She was swaying to the band
Do, do, do, do
dodododo
'You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off you
You'd be like heaven to touch
I want to hold you so much ...'**
Do ...
* Reference 'Mirror Ball', Geoff O'Connor of The Crayon Fields
** 'Can't Take My Eyes Off You', Franki Valli
Julie Porter
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