REMEMBERING STEVE
The things I remember are flashes and pieces
my rational mind combines and releases,
The pieces all fit yet wonder increases,
All that I have: an emotional thesis.
He was twenty-one then, born six seven nine,
With an old world charm so hard to define...
For thirty-two days we existed together,
Not long after that he left for wherever.
But before he was gone we had danced and we'd kissed,
After he played, In the alleys we strayed,
Such heights of joy...(in the wake of abyss),
He befriended my friends with his simpleton splendor,
And later he got a new job as bartender.
We held hands in the theater
for "But I'm A Cheerleader",
And incense he burned in his place off of Seventh,
And we stayed indoors…naked feet on hard floors,
Innocent lust was joined: unrepented.
He worked lots of jobs and he wore sexy shorts,
With hair and nails long; A drag queen of sorts,
For he dressed the part of a man blessed by charms,
And yet he was vulnerable held in my arms.
He was somewhat unformed but with presence to spare,
With a depth in his eyes like his essence was there,
And the heart of that light inspired our dream,
That existed despite that the light was unclean.
He dressed like a priest but with whispers of danger,
He held back such secrets; this bell tower stranger,
A family in shadows made bright times unlightened,
But the gun on the table is what left me frightened.
Why was it there? He didn't quite answer...
Why are you scared? The silence was cancer
eating away what had only just started...
He needed protection... From what? And we parted.
Not right away, but I hated he hid it...
We shattered inside but I couldn't admit it...
Who needs a gun so handy and why?
Couldn't he trust me? Or just say goodbye?
But I stayed in that bed with our innocence lost...
Though the gun in my head brought Fall's early frost,
And September nineteen brought an end to our dream,
When razor blade nails inspired a scream.
But the blood wasn't why I asked him to leave,
And the unreturned lust wasn't wholly obscene,
The unwashed fact of the matter:
disaster...
But the truth left untold
was why I could not hold him
and we hugged goodbye a few hours after...
Goodtime Charlie's goodbye was random,
Weeks and I called but he did not answer,
And later I learned that the bar was behind him,
And I called again but I could not find him.
I knew he was leaving for overseas quick,
But I never found him which left my heart sick,
And I thought about him 'cause I was concerned,
And a few years later I heard he'd returned.
But I've never seen him and I've never told him,
That I loved how fragile he'd be when I'd hold him,
I think of him still and I try not to grieve,
I just try to smile while remembering Steve.
Written By Jason Wright
MARCH 12, 2006
- For Steven John Ball -