Thin Air
I bought myself an air ticket
To the air guitar championships
In Finland. There I met him,
And love was in the air.
Our fingers strummed
Rippling airs on infinitely
Fine strings, as we made
Beautiful silence together.
Powerful riffs made the earth move
To zero on the Richter scale;
Our amps went to minus eleven.
Sweat ran from our writhing bodies
As we soundlessly played,
Giving it our all.
I was walking on air. I wanted
To mime my love from the rooftops,
Semaphore his perfection
To the world. But it was not to last.
He said he needed air, I said he
Was just an airhead; we argued
Noiselessly, lipreading terrible
Accusations from each other. But
It didn't clear the air. He left me,
Appropriately, at the air terminal.
Now I listen incessantly to the tapes
Rolling out the inaudible splendour
Of our duets. I'm almost sure
He's left me with a phantom pregnancy
But it can never fill my empty arms,
My empty heart. My fingers ache
From spelling out unheard laments
As my air guitar silently weeps.
© 2003 Valerie Laws: used with permission. Copyright of this poem remains with the poet: please do not download or republish without permission.
