~
She smiles only in pictures
Her hair is growing long

With eyes closed
Au coucher du soleil
Her voice is dulcet
Her laugh is nexus

"Take me with you," she says.
"We'll make kites, we'll steal land."

The gentle arrival of rain
In the blue hour of
The portrait gallery
Makes her qualified to dream
About a serenade of water
And the blueberry boat
~

My left hand bleeds crimson onto my paper,
As my right hand writes the words.
The brittle yellowed pages quake as they
Turn into a battlefield of my sensations.
Violent waves bury
the rough, course sand in my heart
Each crash pulling me closer
To the tender abyss.
Broken record in my brain
“This will never end. This will never end”
The waves will keep crashing
The pages will remain yellow
And I’ll be left
Forever caught between the ink and the abyss.

A star is born and another fades
Their incandescence mocks any tears that cascade
Galaxies collide, their chaos resplendent,
Life is but a mere blip in their existence
Meteors crash and civilizations ebb and fail
What good are my tears
On a cosmic scale?
How ephemeral are my memories
Compared to all of eternity?

I plant my prayers in silent ground,
Water them with words unsound.

The stars fade, the hours drift,
Yet still, I wait, my hands unclenched.

If time must steal, let it restore,
What once was lost, return once more.

No cries, no chains, no last despair,
Juste attendre et espérer.

The pit is bottomless,
inhabited by detestable creatures
half formed and shifting-
Their teeth like splinters,
their breath the smell of rotting flesh.

They never take shape
Their edges smudged,
But they are poised
to pounce at your weakest.

You fall by your own volition

down, and still farther down.

Because falling is simple

when the pit is yours.