[poem temporarily hidden by author]

2 Replies to “[poem temporarily hidden by author]”

1. Oh, that’s beautiful.

2. …often there is no word/ for such intermissions./ …A homing— the way you cup/ the back of my head in your hand…

   INTERMISSION

   There is no word for such intermissions.
   A rendezvous at some theatre wing,

   a random counting of all the lost days
   when you travelled to parts unknown,

   a quick embrace, prolonged gazes heavy
   with unspoken desire. O, I know this

   was a homing—the way you cupped
   the back of my head in your hand—

   you are back, but you have not returned,
   so, love, while the curtains are down

   tilt my face toward the crack of light,
   find my hungry mouth, fill my empty

   arms before the final act opens, or even
   before they send in an old, tired clown.

   —Albert B. Casuga
   04-28-11

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