- Travel Journal
Memory of yourheartbeat pulsing in my hand:all the windows open Dawn
The clocks here all face East Time measured out in backward moving spoons empty as an unmade bed.
Your photograph haunts the shifting room thin substitute for absent arms. Three zeros on the door.
Lifeboat for a shipwreckedheart, phone linestaut between us Only soundyour voice
Noon: The post card lies face front: Glittering skyline clear waters. The perfect day reversed: Empty words quickly tossed Good Time Lovely Don't worry
Truth a knife edge between word and image slicing skin paper thin with longing
"Wore your undershirtgreen apples drifted throughmy clothes all daythen went out to a bar.
The only guy who looked at me looked like you."
"I think that means Come Home"
Sunset behind the mountain Golden crown on bed of coffee beans Night [End Page 96]
Reginald Harris (rmharris2001@hotmail.com), the author of 10 Tongues: Poems, works for the Enoch Pratt Library in Baltimore, Maryland, as Help Desk and Training Manager. A contributor to the Encyclopedia of Contemporary Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Literature of the United States, he has received Individual Artist Awards for both Fiction and Poetry from the Maryland State Arts Council.