Sleeping with close friends, never a good idea. Voracious sex consumes the friendship, and hollow-eyed, we search for what isn’t there in each others eyes. We are most often alone after making love. New expectations, and hope makes monsters of our psyches, and we mistrust each other the most when we are the closest. Cruelty among lovers. Uncertain, we push them away. Anonymity – not knowing is safer. To kiss someone on a regular basis is not safe. We panic. One lover said, I want it always to be a surprise. Don’t expect me back, and yet he comes, night after night. Does he expect a huge net? He writes his fear. What are the rules? We gave up rules when we put someone on the moon. Men walked across her face. The technology that put in there, put us all in the fast lane. We drive our emotions like Maseratis on the speedway. Quick Exodus. Our engines run hot, our spark plugs need changing too soon, so we can keep up with ourselves. Huge spiders live in my sink, and they drown whenever I do the dishes. Sometimes the smaller male spider gets it first. A day later, the huge female still stands guard over the shriveled body of her mate. When the water rises again, she makes no attempt to escape, and her last resting place is against the drain screen, with her desiccated mate, her legs trailing behind her, squid-like. Every day she dies in my sink and every morning she is back again with her mate. oh how we drown in each others eyes.
No date, possibly June, 1983, could be 84, from my Napa Poetry Conference journal. No idea even who it’s to....if it’s from 1983, it’s probably to Richard Salzman. Or not.
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