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The (J) Exception


The (J) Exception

A tall mammoth in the California surf
a “dude” with a man of Aslan
the sun in his hair
and two pieces of soft ice peering from his face
the blue skies forever in his eyes

You teased me as you said you would
your hint of laughter precipitating a collision
between our two beings

Your picture is not one I prefer
but the colors of you are a rainbow I like
and I find myself wanting
that which is not
and can never be

But for a moment
the gentleness of your fingers
mirrored the taste of your lips
and when your hands embraced my face
there was nothing outside my room to exist

And now
I find myself waiting to read you
to hear you unfold before me
only to have you leave
just as binding is cracked open

Finally you stayed
and we did more than read between the lines
Our books were open to the center
folded out under blinding light
No meticulous metaphors hid our meaning

We were but a short story
with our friendship being slammed shut between the covers
of our separate lives

Now the glass of my memory is the only reflection of you
and there is only rain where you once stood
in my room

September 26, 1993
Tressa Lee Breen

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