I drank too much.
but I wasn't nearly drunk enough
to forget
the look in your eyes
betraying your words
which were betraying me.
it forces me
to wonder which you it was
I met that night.
were you finally yourself
emboldened by beer?
or were you frightened
into acting out a tragedy
written by anonymous ghosts?
I want to silence the thunder
that disturbs your sleep.
I want to touch your face
without make-up.
Paul David Mena
9 January, 1997
Cambridge, MA
