Apologetic Telegram

You remember of course: I was drunk

and kept begging you to kiss away my tears.

I wanted to stay with you that night,

but I was afraid you might cure me of all my guilt

without whose pretend-sweet burden I can’t live.

I weave my guilt into a rope ladder

by which, soundlessly, I get to God,

or at least to my corner of heaven…

I didn’t stay. Stupidly, inexplicably, I put on my mac

and made endless excuses.

You remember of course: we’re different.

Guilt before you is the most perfect step

to the top, where we’ll meet again.

I kiss you soberly and clumsily

but all the more ardently.

Mirela