I still think of
and am caught up short by
the memory of
your eyes, your mouth.
I have never beheld
your true face
nor have I kissed you
but I know what
you taste like.
I know it because
I know you.
I know you because
we have the same blood.
It flows like smoke
and fire
through the heart
of us both,
and some day
we will bleed
over the earth
and set fire to it,
bring down the world
in a rain
of red and gold
and rebuild it
with words of
our own making,
you and I,
hand in hand.
Ah Jones. Ah Jones. I don’t know what else to say.
What do you want to say?
If I had the words for that, I would have something to be truly proud of.
Again: What do you want to say?