Curse the stars!
For ours were not aligned.

When he’s alone in the night,
In the absence of the light
And the presence of the sight,
There, begins the tearing blight:
Dark veiling dark, light veiling light.

(What am I doing?
Poetry-dwelling
In these dunes of salt
With five syllables?)

When he's alone in the night
In the half-presence of the light
There, begins the specular fight –
The scarlet mutiny within.

© LazharBouazzi, December 12, 2016

Stories that never had a voice
Spoken in hushed tongue

                    we

Loves that are forgotten
Brought again back

                   we are

Laughter echoes
the halls of the mind

                       all

Turmoil and hate
Forever near

                   all we are

Tears sit
In the waiting room

                        left

Longing teeters
On the edge of lips

                      voiceless

The warmth of breath
Crystallizes in the air between

All we are left with
a voiceless
                  *symphony

I know the door you're
Speaking of,

And you're right.
It is
Shut -

Firmly
Tight.


Love seeps through,
Overtaking my view,
Breathing promises
of
No looks back.

While

Red emotion
Slips through,
Obscuring my view,
With such ease,
Spilling
Right through the
Cracks.


I feel gusts of
You,
Whisping bits of me to

The spaces you wish
We'd go -

Though it's the
Heavier parts
That can't quite start

Flying -

Afraid
Of the
Multiplous

Ways to go.

--

It's Me

That gets
Left behind.