do you remember the ghost deer
when we were so high
out of our damn minds
coming off that sunset hike
in Zion.
we couldn’t tell if they were real,
the deer,
so silent.
you were one of those deer
in my dream last night.
like I could touch you.
see those deer, they were real.
captured on your cam-e-ra.
they didn’t make a sound
but we could feel
their breath
on our sleeves
as they past us.
quivering shapes of grey.
fearless.
maybe they thought
we were trees.
and that lady—
do you remember that lady?
she was singing,
maybe,
outside our cabin
and the Mexican restaurant
where it all hit
in a THC capsule.
by the time that lady was singing
I had to turn in,
lay my head on a pillow
and digest it.
but you—
you blew out of the room,
out the door. had to go.
go photograph the stars
in that dark.
to photograph.
like you always do.
a need.
an action.
I lay under sheets hiding.
typing words.
what we’d seen.
the same thing
but a different fraction.
and in my dream,
we were somewhere.
somewhere different
than the one
where you died in my arms
because no one was there
to catch you.
in this dream,
I think you’d lost yours shoes
and you were holding a camera
like it was attached to you
and you told me you loved me
and your eyes were all glassy.
we embraced.
I woke up crying.
I miss you.
scratch that.
I miss who we were.
just two friends laughing
in the dirt.
dragging our city asses
up angels landing
rinsing our sweat
in a stream
like a dream
we were a team
then.
we scarfed hot dogs
nearly missed our flight
from Vegas
and it didn’t matter.
we shared a life.
dunked our heads
in the same bucket.
fuck it.
I wouldn’t say
that I forgive you.
but I’d say
I’d like to.
I’m all out of excuses
for you.
but I believe
you thought
you had to
later,
when you abused
your power
and I let you.
you tossed me
once I got the grit
to check you.
if you could know
the blow
I took
for your traction.
who are you now?
you still holding your own
lenses
hopping fences
to get the image
the satisfaction?
who’s tying your shoes?
who’s there to catch you?
to challenge you
to question.
maybe I’m naive
to still believe
there’s nothing
that can’t be
redeemed
when love too,
is an action.