Adam Fieled (Plymouth Meeting, Pennsylvania, USA): "Starlight II"
What starlight means to someone sober, such
as I was not in the old days— it would have to be
the sense of lives lived not uselessly. As in, who
we were had a burning sense of purpose, even
amid the ecstasy of moments we lived through—
gossamer ones to hold onto. It was not for nothing
who we were, what we did. How the grass-plots,
yellow-leaved autumn trees, other foliage, informed
us, heedless as we were, was that we would gradually
ripen into a long life no matter what. If that life
would have to begin with me, so be it. The sense
of sexual union, crescendo, orgasm, was in our
brains too, about what had moved us, & made
all the libidinous business resonate on a double level.
We were in each other’s bodies, and in each other’s
brains, I dare say, the right way. If an odder family
has never been seen, a family we were. The starlight
which could descend on Mary’s room— eastern
exposure, lavishing the long wooden dresser with
flat countertop surface, Mary’s various paraphernalia—
has now transmuted into a knowing stripe. Assured,
also, of enterprises, personal and otherwise, coming
full circle, just as Abby used circular forms to out-
Klimt Gustav himself, and of eternity borne out
through trust in nature, long patience. So I leave
myself with Mary there, doing what we always did,
but precocious about vindication, passages, reality.
The starlight finds a little place for us, for this.
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