E Mail To Damniso Lopez 9

My solitude
Arises at twilight
Out of oak bark
And becomes me.
This solitude
Drinks cognac,
Feels distant,
Feels remote.
But since I met her
My solitude
Stays inside wood
What enters
To anguish me
Is loneliness.
This loneliness
Is like a sad rain.
It is a downpour
On my whole being.
It bores holes
Into my flesh,
And wets my bones.
Since I met her
I feel damp
And strange inside.
I think of a Rilke poem
How a lonely man
Goes to bed every night alone
And thinks of a couple
Who hate each other
And sleeps together
Each night in one bed.