i hear your voice, the first time i asked, and you said yes
i hear sliver in silver, the moon, a sliver of silver shimmers
as if suspended in your room, where decades discolor it all
where light pales the peel of paper on walls that remember
how perfect the place once was, i hear yes in voice, rejoice
as i can still hear your voice that first time i asked, and you
said yes, say yes, say yes, i’d prayed, then a sliver of moon
came in to play upon the walls, where all was perfect, with
white lace curtains lifted gently in the breeze, i hear breath
in breathe, hand upon your chest, lips pressed against your
lips, pressing up against mine, i hear your voice, no longer
in time with my own, no yes but in yesterday, all of it slips
away, so that all i hear now in room, is a shimmer of moon
Stephen Jackson
*Author's note on typeface: "these poems, which are part of an ongoing series [but are otherwise unrelated to each other], are designed to be printed in Times New Roman."