Mysterium Interruptus

by Richard Martin

We were in a dream,
shoveling snow & busy
imitating a symphony of birds
on a transistor radio.

“No explanations as per request,” you said.
“Write the love letters you promised.”

Dearest X,

Like you, I am fond of expensive
wines & abstruse conversation.
I am enthralled by your beauty,
polish my words into mirrors
     for the soul.  I flash my Plato
     Fan Club Card as neighbors
turn into strangers.

Hats off to Larry,

A

Dearest Y,

So, you’ve changed your name
from X to Y.  I majored in Onomastics
in college, developing an acute
fondest for names associated
with love and beauty — Aphrodite,
Bella, Amor, etc. Y means all
of these to me.

Did you know heaven adores
the invisibility of dark energy?

Who wrote the Book of Love?
B

Dearest Z,

The alphabet can’t keep me from you.
I am addicted to “letters” & enticed
by your flashy body & fleshy lips.
BTW, my last foray into the majesty
of clouds left me heartbroken
     & without wings.

O, the holy electromagnetism of it all!
I built a house of light to honor you.

Goo goo g’joob

C

Dearest X, Y & /or Z,

I love the mystery
of not knowing
if I know you.
Is that you banging on
the door of our dream?
My exhaustion for you
is incomplete arid transparent.
I live in the iconic moments
of an imagined presence.

Welcome! to the body of this letter.
It has been waiting for you
without complaint or signature.

PS  I have sealed my guilt
in stardust dogmas
falling into the sea.