Accidental Rhyme

Of all the windows in the world
through which I long to see,
the green one in the concrete is
what brings you back to me.

And maybe I am singing now,
with my accidental rhyme.
A man upon a parapet!
(Is there any other kind?)

Words are a distraction
when feeling’s what you seek.
Woman beyond the window,
you whispered that to me.

Your lips brushed ’gainst my ear lobe
my hair caught ’tween your teeth.
“Feel in your bones the hum of me.
Hear not the things I speak.”

I tried to turn my ears off,
my tongue, my nose, my eyes—
but they are such very stubborn things.
Oh me, myself, and I.

My mouth against your elbow,
I tried to hum you back to you.
But you frowned and left the bed
that night, because you felt the truth.

I’d heard, I’d seen, I’d tasted,
and oh, how I had smelled.
I’d nosed across the whole of you,
as far as I could tell.

But my weary bones can hold no beauty,
can’t even make a fist
to rap upon the window now
so I can tell you this.