Blue Helium Sky

In 1983

Her long, umber hair framed
a child like, thirty year old face
with brown eyes flitting back
and forth under my head,
as we tried to conquer a lack --
making love in her bed.
We had turned up
the volume on her television,
so we could sit there and listen
to MTV play its glossy
techno pop continuum
from her living room.

Sometimes, I remember
the pale landscape of her body --
the soft flesh electric,
as I held her close
when I was lonely
in 1983.

We lay between wan sheets,
as summer became autumn
and the cold audio
we heard in the distance
from A Flock of Seagulls video
droned indifference.
We turned to strangers
with little else in common
but our scattered affections,
as leaves blew and December lit
all the morning windows
in ice-blue shadows.

Sometimes, I remember
the pale landscape of her body --
its soft flesh electric,
as I held her close
when I was lonely
in 1983.


Website Builder