and I watched…, I listened,
her mouth like trains,
glistening moonrose - she rode on her words,
“Never perfect”, echoing endlessly,
as I seemed still, my heart racing,
death like a newborn child…,
kicking and screaming…,
(not my time, not my time)
“Ooh but it is your time” - she said,
done by the whisper of noon,
leaves of a long forgotten autumn,
caressed by the cruel winds of winter,
pale as my longing heart…,
it seemed, in my hubris,
I mistook her for something else,
now a bird flies past my window,
like a T. S. Eliot’s bird, yelling “Go - Get it”,
I did not,
by the stroke of her hand,
lent by time of time for space,
which we never completely filled,
I walked head held up high,
to the forest and loneliness,
companions true and morose,
as I sink into the nothingness of this world,
happiness is just a word, a connotation,
nothing more than a sickly friend,
its retarded sister…,
laughter of a clown, drenched in hypochrisy,
flicker of light mirroring from sad eyes,
waterlilies of the north,
river-gods hyped on ecstasy,
true in their lies and deceit,
“So this is it”, through and through,
she passed like chocolate over the nipples,
cold and hard…, (erotic memories),
like Madeleine soaked in a morning cup of tea,
Proust’s netherworlds, time past and time present,
forever cut in the stone of our…, (not gonna say it),
no more preaching, no more choirs,
angels walking home, drunk like brigadiers,
and no more “I love you’s”,
respiratory sadness has won,
beauty before glory: “Thine shall be mine”,
and all the children quiet…, (screams left),
tonight comes the wishing,
for something to take,
for others to leave alone,
soon a pool of ease will please
this young man’s game,
only when…
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