Friday, 27 November 2009

no verona

drink your cup of amnesia.
hold it warm in your mouth
before it burns thick
like comfort down your ruby throat.
sometimes do you dream me to life?
the me you knew then
in the time we left behind?

wearing weakening foxtails
and rabbit's feet i bit your neck.
sunk my teeth into translucent skin.
the kind of skin light
(the light blake knew only too well)
could shine right through.
you could be a ghost.
a figment of my imagination.
but you're not.
you were my sun.
more than beautiful.
you drunk me dry.
yet still i offered my neck.
my wrist.
still.
still and always.

in a voice i hear not
and dont remember,
like an echo in a dream,
you sing your world to another.
meanwhile i see them.
feel them waiting.
hoping. close by.
tuned in
to the sound of my footsteps
and heart.

i ask myself,
can mountains be moved?

2 comments:

Red Bird said...

Wow- this is captivating! I love the imagery here... bravo, my friend!
:)

Timo said...
This comment has been removed by the author.