Beautiful Thing! WCW
Life’s narrative best told in flesh
not ideas, no roman à thèse,
abstraction murders making.
The intellect survives, prevails,
never crafting compelling tales.
Better recall the brushed breast,
enticing curve of a soft shoulder,
deep eyes that smiled and pierced,
the slippery tongue of tasting.
Be but a tourist in the past.
Live in the body’s only now
even as it droops and falls.
The bygone an unheard call
unanswered and misunderstood,
migrations and extinctions.
Lies and revision satisfy best.
Write it down exactly as it wasn’t.
Hold hard onto your todays
even as they blink away.