Games of Solitaire

Games of Solitaire

Amid the salmon and the apricot

dipped in a bowl of midnight ink,

Your tongue cuts to the quick

spelling out the fable upon which

you tell me I have set the table

of my life’s journey:

You speak of mysteries beckoning

an audience with me

but my dreams line games of

solitaire between orange moons

hung stealthily in the african sky:

I wonder which equinox it was

you first discovered my soul sleeping

soundly on the slatted kitkat  bench

and moved on into the silence

so as not to wake a sleeping universe?

 

I remember your passing

this way once before

It was a twilight heart of Cabaret Voltaire

The dish had runaway with the silver spoon

and I midstep

a Cha-Cha with Appolinaire

caught your shadow kissing Time

and heard you whisper

“she.

is mine!

Guillaume and I played cards till morning

and found a sunrise dressed for War!

The blood cycle

 left front doors well-dressed

and troubled.

Minds and art fled to meagre exiles.

 

Fixed on other tongues

You forgot her name

and caution:

blood thirst monologues

drove you underground

a warlord ravaging your soul

A Tale of Two Cities,

shredded across your bed,

raided your enemies

trivia hunted you down in

a fine-fisted cranium full of threats.

but the memory sat cross-legged

upon your heart and the dearth of uneasy slaughter;

her seagreen eyes reflected piecemeal

arrows in your soul: melancholy stole the text

and read to you

of an undressed Sargasso Sea

wherein you saw her again

play games of solitaire with an ancient man

they used to call Apollinaire…

 

 

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Renée Sigel

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