Tuesday, April 9, 2013

After

Your voice
is an image now,
stamped -
quite beguiling.

 My
                eyes burn with ideas,
 and I'm stuck
 in
                                                              time flowing so fast
                                                               it deranges.

                                                               I see what's
abandoned, what affliction is avoided,
and I'm contemplating the wisdom in matching all you're cap-
able of.  Deserting, too, the
                       the towering space where once we stayed.
                                                                    Did we leave
anything at
all
behind?  After rumors of ruins,
              and suggestions of deaths, I am fearful of venturing back...
though
the cries of passage
         echo earthward,
 treasure
                            telling, somehow.   There is
a choice in this,
but remembrance falters, and your scarcity gives you away.
Still,
I dig through, clambering up, not sure what I'll find or
                                                                        where I'll end
up.
I am
filtering through the vanished and
unreturned,
pushing
past phantoms, and I am taut of tongue close to
  the precipice
where our love
  hangs in balance.

Write at the Merge

6 comments:

  1. Marvelous work- such an evocative word-painting. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I loved this too-and that last line is stunning! Very beautifully written!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Valerie. I, actually, wan't sure about that last line, so I'm glad to hear it was a good choice.

      Delete
  3. "remembrance falters"

    That tiny phrase stuck with me throughout the rest of the reading. It does, doesn't it.

    ReplyDelete