The Maynard
Spring 2015

gary lundy

aren't we missing everything

aren't we missing everything by plying memory for sustenance. instead engage radically present tense. cancel out the show right in front of our faces. yet the writing seems always a more alive behind immediate moment.

there is a one who laughs just like the one my former older lover rather. every time i hear the laughter my mind races to crawl back under the covers. protection in the small attic room. belongings scattered mimicking the sharp slope of walls.

those times i see a stranger as one to whom i might give myself once again. there must be a someone who might discover a meaning to open me. reduce sorrow to a time prior. a day lit with gorgeous blue hope.

i think today i'll go looking for you. the one i've yet to meet. the one who might evolve into a future lover. to read onto his body my body. our lips tangle upon skin pleasures. to finally once again offer what's left of myself. to take time out of measuring this comfort and penetration.