Sara and Socrates

Our lives shifted through the

cracks in the cement stone

We shared a couple joints and I

vomitted into that brown paper bag

Remember how you threw your head

backwards and laughed

And I laughed.

I had it on my jeans.

And we started to make that poem about

how we met and how the wax from the candle

shouted out color, and meaning

And for the bones in me, I can't recall

where I slept or where the next morning's

confession came from

You said someday I was going to need you

You said someday I was going to save you

And I said yes



On the ride home you played that

lake song

and if fit the night so perfectly that

I still listen to it religiously

Then we screamed out the window

one sober, one getting stoned

And I realized that I loved you, the

way Socrates would love

I loved you, in that deep philosophical

kind of love

Music can do that

and you know it

So you tell me everything I need to know inside

songs that no ones ever heard of...

dedicated soley for you, me, and us

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Starward's picture

Although I do not fully understand the circumstances of the provenance of this poem (and, I suspect, I would not condone them), the poem itself is exceptionally beautiful.


Starward