Memory of absence
You and me in each other
a mix of nowhere
in the sphere of fulness
vacuum in the room .
Burning desires
dying on the canvas
of a solar painter ..
Monastery bodies
open to troubling mysteries...
This cry from beyond
walls speaking our voices
your fingers touching me
through the cold mirror ...
I breath your scent left
in the old cupboard
empty of your shared intimacy...
Music of a light step ,
dawn ballerina from swan lake
entangled bolero ...
Those tender hours
when we didn't to wake up,
the tea pot in the kitchen
was getting impatient ...
Your nakedness dressed
in a sunbeam that I invoked
as a religion of abandonment...
On the carpet I pick up
gold curls adorned with a star.
Reality distording the mirror
creating bad sepia images...
I ache for this painful trace of your "was"...
Mocking absent memory
with whom I remain in love ...
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 17th, 2024 08:11
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments4
The human ability to become attached to the past and remain a prisoner of those moments that cannot be returned. A very beautiful, extremely imaginative piece.
A story we 've all known...
"your fingers touching me
through the cold mirror ..."
a most wonderful line
'I ache for this painful trace of your "was"...'
Such an identifiable line. Loved it all
Memory of a painful " was '' !
Excellent write
Thanks tony !
You're welcome
I'm sorry for the grief you feel here. Very deep write. Beautifully written!
Only the sepia remains on the image .
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