I Intend To

I Intend To

I intend to swim in that lake ringed with pines. The past is full of instances of swimming:

that indoor pool in the Highlands. Grinding on teenagers in Tamarindo, drinking cans of Cuba Libre in the back of sports utility vehicles bouncing along unpaved roads toward beaches, lace of secret rip tide.

I intend to. I never remember what I

did not do.

What I did not do does not exist,

only half-existed for a moment as shimmering hologram.

Intentions are just dreams, like dreams of cliffs.

All of the cliffs I've seen, those I want to see- those mirage cliffs in An Affair To Remember.

I've had many affairs to remember, many to forget.

There is no point in thinking of all the slightly flawed piano songs

I've known and cried and

the shuffle of shoes scuffing the ground, the limes, it's hard enough,

I do read the papers though, I am up on the news. I never meant to destroy love like a delicate bough.

I never meant to do all sorts of things.

We loved one another once, crumbling vista

cliff mirage we loved

one another once

I've only ever been able to conjure something childlike for the breaking night.

Only ever felt bone-loyal to the rain. I frighten of things. But

cliff mirage we loved one another once.

Not like a man or woman, but like a tiny world, palm-held,

precious as hummingbird.

I thought that I was found but

I am not found;

that was a dry fountain. That was a lovely basket-

held no water.

When I am fearless then I will be found.

And I will heap a pyre, watch it long hours.

Every intention will burn. Only what is

will remain

to transcend