The message
Isn't that the left side
Of my bed is cold
The message is that at one time
It was warm
What right have I to
Any moment of sorrow
That feels endless
Sorrow, yes
But ending in
A memory
A silent film moment of
Squinting eyes in a photograph
Looking deeper than the ocean depths
Seeing fears and fat and flawless imperfection
Yes
My eyes burn
As does my heart
But I have a message
I have the marks a mind makes
On you when you are loved
I am not who
I was
Nor will I ever be
And the holes left here
Are not the barren chasms
Of mine field battles
They are acid burns
From tears shed inside
Connection. Salt unkissed
Can burn as surely as sun rays
Licking uncovered arms and nose and cheeks
I will wear my holes and burns
Badges of battles won
Through loss
And dance down dirt pathways
On bare and filthy feet
Forget a hand to hold. I know these
Moves myself.
And will always reach out
For your ethereal invisible essential
Self that floats
Forever
Beside me.
My message is
I may sleep alone
But I will never dance
Without you.
No comments:
Post a Comment