Archives for posts with tag: loss poetry

i watched you stretch

out your hand

and,

as

carelessly

as if it were

a weed,

pluck my heart

from

my chest.

i remember that

 you held it

up to the

sun,

seemingly admiring the

red gleam glisten

 faint

pulsation

until it

finally stopped.

bright shine viscera

dangled from

your fist

like tendrilled

roots,

my soul

clinging

like  mud tied

dirt.

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i can no longer

sense out our path with this flat

tap of white caned beat

do you want me

to tell you

more?

do you want me

to tell you how her pupils

widened

with the dark shock

of months long

anticipation

expectation?

For so long it was obvious

to us

all.

How it would finally end.

We tied

knots

on knots

on knots.

We never,

none of us three,

ever,

thought

of the

total

 breaking strain

we might

exert between

us…

i once knew

a soul –

so perfectly meshed

with mine –

[it sounds so damn cliched

but that is how it was] –

we were so precisely tensioned,

exact warp to

corresponding weft.

our weave,

so fine,

so tight.

by the time this soul had to leave me,

we had created a fabric of

all surpassing beauty,

myriad complexity of patterns

stitched within.

and

now

parted,

separated,

as painful as ripped seams.

now.

i find myself holding tight

to the threads

that are left –

trying to move the shuttle

back and forth

fast enough

to keep up with

all these

unravelling ends.

bella sometimes i

don’t know who i am without

you: must keep breathing

all these turbid words,

this corruptible weather,

our slow drown begins.

I know you are not gone,

I see you in the breeze,

In the sunlight, starlight, moonlight,

I see you in the green things growing in the garden,

In the rain,

I hear you in the birdsong in the morning,

I see you in the beauty of silhouettes at dusk,

I feel you in my heart and wrapped tight around my soul,

And I know,

Utterly and completely,

You are not gone.

Mischief

One day you promised

“I will love you forever”,

Leaves fall in autumn.

untitled No 10

it is funny that the love that

is

made from

granite

has come

from the softest touch.

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