As True As Troilus

I hold such bated breath
 My hand a brimming trove
 I hold such spinning wheel
 That my years gape wide
 And I say yes, as true as troilus
 The moon having all to do with it, we wait and speak of nothing. I stare at your wealth as a
 Moth would at a light
 Our lies squeak like bus breaks on a boring hill
 As false as cressida you take my hand
 I look into your eyes as into a foreign vowel, gathering my last words around me like
 Photographs in a flood
 I hold such bated breath
 My hand a brimming trove
 I hold such spinning wheel
 That my years gape wide
 I could take this to you later
 But I take this to you now
 I must act quickly, you see
 Before my mind invents a cold
 Their love ran a faultless course, their eyes trained on the same source, their hearts pregnant
 Like salmon with millions of tiny hopes
 Troilus: Girl-shy but brash-hearted, on the cusp of full living
 Cressida: Bright-eyed but wary, bouncing on caution's weakest knee
 And when she left, gutting the house of its contents as she went, a cold emptiness replaced the
 Full feeling, leaving him as hollow-bloated as the deflating bulb of the stomach that
 Remembers the child, love nursing us all into need.
 Banking on the deep well of their love to bring up water, he waited nine days for her return
 His patience a novena of noble longing
 And I say yes, as true as troilus
 In privacy of heart
 I shuffle vagary
 And trick and the millions
 Suck at my bowels like mice
 Like a boy troilus begged for her return, rumors of her dissension like the cruel whisper of
 The winter wind hissing through the porch teeth. Nine days of wondering how the clock could
 Summon up enough vim to muscle through the minutes. And on the tenth day something died
 Swelling like a tumor on the april path, ten days of sitting still, only to hear his heart break
 Those ten times over
 On the tenth day something died
 Swelling like a tumor the april path
 Ten days of sitting still
 My body buckling like the belly of an accordion
 And I stay true, as true as troilus, and as I wait for you my life grows cold in waiting
 Your truth sedated in the sleep-hub and your silence at the helm of our wreckage, I sit alone in my
 Confusion, dwarfed in not knowing why, my heart like a brass instrument that is spittle-heavy wheezing out.
 In the small font of a footnote, I beg for the tight screw, the green light, the hungry flutter of
 White hands at the blackening keys, to hammer out my own truth, weave a sharp confession
 My knuckles chiming over the launch pad like church bells.
 That to be pianist
 And hunger at the keys
 In dreams airlifted out
 From where I toss alone in scrimmage
 In dreams airlifted out, in dreams airlifted out
 In dreams airlifted out from where I toss alone in scrimmage
 I catalogue the moments of our beginnings
 Remembering how my body shifted like an easy tide
 As you pinned me to you
 In these days of endless complaint
 I raise my hand to cover my eye
 As you did to yours, only to second
 An open eye for yours, a heart for yours
 A promise for yours, only to hold
 In jest, in dreams, in supplications
 In jest