conversation

i was living in beverly hills
with a woman
so alone and desperate
for anyone to keep her alive
she had been living
in the past for thirty years
i was a breathe of
fresh air
briefly

i stayed in her guest room,
one of many
spent my days at her pool,
overlooking a city
i grew to despise
one night
a buzz at the door
i open
it is a woman
who would get me
within minutes
we sat in the living room
that night and many to follow
a room she had spent
many nights in
writing songs
playing the guitar
painting

we smoked, american spirits
she spoke of her angers
her regrets, her lovers
she sang a song in french
still, a beautiful voice
she spoke of her grandchild
who shares my birthday
this excited her
she shared old polaroids
and stories
she shared
her wisdom

a month after that first
conversation
i packed my bags and drove
through nevada, utah
colorado, kansas, missouri
and home to tennessee
i did not look back
i had no regrets
for my time spent there
was well worth it
conversations with a woman
who
with her words
well, it all made sense,
life, love, passion and pain

and tonight
i listen to a song,
a favorite of mine
and so fitting
her words,
speak the truth
she knows what i know
a truth that i want to share
on this night
i am so alone

"she removes him like a ring
to wash her hands
she only brings him out to show her friends
i want to free him"

"she speaks in sorry sentences
miraculous repentances
i don't believe her"