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Monday, July 16, 2012

Drawing Circles



There was a golden moment, when we knew how to respect
    the passion between us, before the indigo storm
         swept past us and infiltrated her moisture
             in every part of our union.

A severed wound does not always heal, the scar tissue
        a marker for the forlorn and abandoned,
        like a hen who forsakes freshly laid eggs
             for some poacher to devour.
    One minute you were drawing circles in the clouds
         painting prisms with your delectable charm
         as I watched magic forge from the hands
             of an artist who spins impressions
                     from slippery stars:
             beholden, cherished, consecrated.

But the torrid rains plunged, and capricious anger
    turned her fickle cheek and mocked the path
             we followed, as if to say:
    “you’ve lost your designation, like a pirate
             seizing a ship’s sail, and soaring
                     to lands unknown.”
         Your were crazy, fallacious accusations
                      inhabiting your mind,
                 paranoia cluttering acumen,
                 like a melon left to spoil
                 in the melting sunlight.
             My love was a casualty of the war
         you succeeded to launch, choosing to drift
    from you and begin anew with adorned angel wings
         that lifted me to freedom from persecution,
                 providing me a second chance
             while I watch our faded love dissolve
                      into a denigrated illusion
         unsure if there ever was a time to rejoice.

I light candles one by one, make a wish, and douse
    them out, like blowing bubbles into the wind
             as they blanch and disintegrate,
             like the remnants of our liaison,
         now just an apparition that haunts,
             taunts and inhabits musky dreams
             which bludgeon what was, stomach
                 what is, and slowly expires:
                           time to take quill to paper
               while drawing my circles in the clouds.

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