Stone & Rain
Ron Androla
i’ve endured the mourning doves’ moans, endured
visions of her hair & the
play of her thighs, deep responsible games.
alone today, rain flies
like bits of marble
off the sculpted sky
perhaps the middle of rock
is wax, & inside wax is
a wick, burning it &
stone becomes animated, like rain
like memory going thru itself
discovering conversions, her
face hugged by smiles & cocaine
green rocky eyes in the rain
a finger
rolling like wind
over my lips
as if inspecting the currents
of kisses, lies, dreams, all
that’s possible for me
to say falsely
nor truly, yet innocently
to loneliness, to
apathy in the form of love
i’ve withstood it before, love, like stone
never seems bothered
by rain