Tuesday, December 4, 2007

For B (1970-2003): A World AIDS Day Blog


In honor of B for World AIDS Day, 12/1/07.


You were too young.

Once she was beautful. I think she is beautiful still.

How does this happen?

Your name kept coming up, your name was everywhere that night.

Every time we listen to that song.

A moment of perfect grace. You are ravishing.

We kept coming back. Coming back to you.

I'll never forget the way you looked.

We knew it was you.

The night you died, we all went bar-hopping. I'm sure you would approve.

Your name still comes up every time we go out. To that one bar. To where it used to be.

When so much is yet to be writ-

We went looking for you once. Your grave was unmarked.

Grace.

Yet we kept finding it anyway.

We laughed and reminisced through the jukebox of frosted glasses of cheap draft beer and smoke-filled rooms.

Rapture.

Ravishing.

Why save your songs for spring? There are more.

We held back our tears. Then we cried.

The Soul of the World awaited him and he would soon be a part of it.

We cried.

You are ravishing...

What is a stranger doing in a strange land?

We wondered. I wondered, what happened?

We hid from you before. We didn't want you to tell on us. We danced and we hid.

Then we drank with you.

And we cried.

You saw us anyway. And you told on us.

I'm sure you would approve.

We all do now.

Once he was beautiful. I'm sure he is beautiful still.

6 comments:

Grace said...

What beautiful words, Jane. I'm so sorry for your loss.

Love,

Grace

Jane Know said...

thank you.

Anonymous said...

Jane,

If you wrote it, it's a lovely remembrance.

I too am very sorry for your loss.

vieve

Jane Know said...

Thanks Vieve, good to "see" you here. :-)
I did write it last night... I was feeling a tad emotional, I guess.

Anonymous said...

Jane,

Indeed. I only recently realized you had a blog yourself. It's been fun following your and Fannie's interactions with the Opiners.

Keep up the good work.

Anonymous said...

it's really pretty. and it's really sad. it's wierd how so many things can be both.