Verum Interiorum

(or masculine vulnerability)

door closed, meeting in session

the exercise, a simple one

the chalkboard having been cleared

by wet sponge (tabula made rasa),

the task was to write a single truth,

like a biblical line in the sand

deep authenticity, if you will

and so, chalk in hand

in pensive pause

under the heat of peering peers,

he marked masculine vulnerability

in lines of dust, for others to see:

it’s been years now

and I just wonder

do you ever think of me?

just looking

for a final resting place now,

and i still think about you

“oh, and,” he added,

i wish i could say

happy birthday