The Language or the Kiss

I don't know if it was real or in a dream
Lately waking up I'm not sure where I've been
There was a table set for six and five were there
I stood outside and kept my eyes upon that empty chair

And there was steam on the windows from the kitchen
Laughter like a language I once spoke with ease
But I'm made mute by the virtue of decision
I choose most of your life goes on without me

Oh the fear I've known
That I might reap the praise of strangers and end up on my own
All I've sung was a song
But maybe I was wrong.

I said to you the one gift that I'd adore
The package of the next ten years all unfolding
But you told me if I had my way I'd be bored
Right then I knew I loved you best born of your scolding

When we last talked we were lying on our backs
Looking at the sky looking through the ceiling
I used to lie like that alone out on the driveway
Trying to read the Greek upon the stars, the alphabet of feeling

Oh I knew back then
It was a calling that said if joy, then pain
The sound of the voice these years later
Is still the same

I am alone in a hotel room tonight
I squeeze the sky out, but there's not a star appears
Begin my studies with this paper and this pencil
And I'm working through the grammar of my fears

Oh mercy, what I won't give
To have the things that mean the most not to be the things I miss
Unforgiving, the choice still is
The language or the kiss

I graduated from college Fall term. I was planning on driving out to Atlanta right after Xmas. My mother was very hurt, I think, that I didn't want to move back home or at least stay in the same state after school. She harped on me so much I ended up leaving two days early. I spent Xmas eve with a friend of mine in Lakeport, CA and on Xmas day drove to my grandmother's house in Madera, CA. No one knew I was coming (this was 1994, and I didn't have a cell phone). Before I knocked, I went to the kitchen window and noticed that everyone was already sitting down eating. I decided to not interrupt, and sneaking away, I ran into my grandfather who was stretching his legs and sneaking a cigarette. I came in and had Xmas dinner with the family, called my parents, got loaded up with food and goodies, and drove straight on to Barstow, where I stopped for the night.

It was the last time I would see my grandfather, my grandmother, and my younger cousin Randy alive.

Oh mercy, what I won't give
To have the things that mean the most not to be the things I miss

I know, about missing. thx

and it's a touching story.

13 thankyous