Tuesday, October 25, 2011
My Love: IX The Estuary of Your Flesh.
the estuary of your flesh flows the memory of evening, rising from a heated earth, as the falling angels stumble to flesh, the twilight of there wings flutter the decent, flapping in the blue forever there feathers drift like eyes in the deep past.
but i search the stones for your passing and drink there path of remembrance as i grasp the edges of your words and fit them around me and hold your meaning snug to my shoulders as despair rains, then seeds the drenched earth, and i fall into loss.
my love, i wander the foam pebbles of your eyes, and the volcanoes of air froth contentment with stone, and i travel the spring and breath in the hum of buds and unfurled flowers searching the change of seasons for a scent of you.
evening fires tell of you in the passing of flame, the wobble of smoke twists me and i travel the ache of forests longing for a taste of you, hoping you linger in the swift waves of young streams that beat the heart into the depth of night.
my love, i did so love you, but now the tumbled limbs of time finds bitter delight in my mouth, and now years have scalded me, dark moments eaten into rock, the swift river dry now, stones kissed and fondled smooth and now from this height in this rubbed moment, the friction of bodies chafe, there is no change, and the blooms of sadness become rivers chocked with ice
the summer was dozed through and tears grew deep walls but your voice still careens from rocks heralding the tearing ache of passing, i become a shivering cold, falling into despair as singing eyes thick with voices and regret are swept into the hunger of the sea.