NOTES FROM DIJON

NOTES FROM DIJON

My little bird,

You will not hear from me for a while,

For there is someone else�s pain to deal with

It is large and crippling and deserves my attention.

I attend to it � visits, late night calls-

An anxiety and a strain when I�m not attending to it.

So I feel a bit sapped and drained �

A cut flower going toward oblivion-

An iris fading to brown then invisible.

I am sorry for this and the timing

I don�t want to hurt and be hurt.

Know that I think of you often

And see your eyes � expecting miracles

That I cannot perform. Fuckingly,

Smith

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