[Through the purple mini-light]

Through the purple mini-light of the night window

You looked and smiled; waved.

I knew at once without surprise, my visitor,

And though my hand then reaching for the telephone


And my feet turned with no hesitation to the door,

My heart’s pace neither quickened nor missed its beat.

And yet at once I moved as in some place entirely visual.

The room had substance but no weight,

I heard no sound but your voice, “May we come in?”.

The plural like a knife’s edge, clean and antiseptic

Stripped me of my indeterminacy.  It would be in all sincerity

“I am very well thank you and how are you?”.

The mouthed mysteries of many months not even in total

Would be audited at this meeting, but the page ruled out

And turned.

Not even the eyes to add their conjecture or question the

Balance of the minds.

But my eye drew you in down corridors lined with a thousand

Livid words, and sought your frailties and checked your progress

Through this abrasive world where only we are soft and mould

To the rock’s demands.

But you were still as upright in your youth

Though new revealed by fashion’s framing,

Still spoke the words that were unto the truth

As lightning illuminating the scene momentarily

And from these scenes I marked your drifting

With the tide and how much you had resisted,

How much you were yourself,

And thought you had not changed, so much.

You were still inviolate, you had your secrets.