Distorted Reflections

Can’t Talk Anymore in the Old WayOn the days I'd go to visit.I knewshe would be free.In the mornings she'd dothe Sun Salute,and inthe eveningsmake peppermint tea.I first caught sight ofher in the designer sea,when she was captive in herswim suitand the water beckoned me.On crowded nights she'dcalm me downwith all I expected and withoutany sound.And on dayslike this, when the coast is clear,I'd travelup to see her there.Then back atdawn to my place, here,by morning I would repair.On days like this I'd visit her,when her lover waselsewhere.And into the darkness I would slip,until she ceasedto care.17