In Silence By Manny Grimaldi

I feel you closer than ever / and I don’t want to talk.

 —Marin Bodakov

With you, my self’s self

on sleepy terraces built 

in elm’s moss spying the spheres

all, enough to adore, enough 

to weep, newborn insects gasping at the fog.

Welcome to my city, her ways and alleys

twist constant surprise—long bar room hours,

the persistence of sewer winds,

and free books in wood-glass huts on church corners.

Instead of making love the first time in the truck,

we banter when I say perhaps we should wait,

and in your vanity you become indignant

and nearly write me off.

We’ve something unsaid.

We have different ideas.

We don’t speak. 

We think of each other until Wednesday.

Manny Grimaldi is a Kentucky writer, author of Riding Shotgun with the Shotgun, and Ex Libris Ioannes Cerva. His website is mannygrimaldi.mypixieset.com .