what could empty you?
in the weight
of our divines
the un thinking
deep within us
strokes of pure spirit
our fleeting fall
labour — the early war;
original sin
in between the earth and sky
is the shade
of the galaxy
why limit sorrow?
why blank the source?
conquered,
we go on
and put life first
ignore the remnant artifacts
merciless undoings
turned pools,
nudge of time
ordinary notes of care
unleashed poisons
etched
into skin
history’s suitor to time,
shards,
debris
remember remember
remember
the blank silence echoing
days go on,
fewer,
sleep escaping
crying out
it was a home.
cursed nights into mornings,
who can make of this?
what once was theirs,
whatever is left?
emptied, murdered, obliterated
an annihilation
of the ego
the anguish,
the anguish
eyes still seeing last touch
feeling
ancient alone abandoned
what is a year
a month
a decade
but a moment?
—lost and burned
futile devices,
fervour’s writing
mailed to the void
and the sea?
the sea?
the saltwater dead, my love,
the saltwater dead
the last great epitaph
of our love:
i am nobody
i am nobody
and you
are gone
oh, August, a season deceased,
tell me again
the hieroglyph
of your name
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC
what could empty you?
in the weight
of our divines
the un thinking
deep within us
strokes of pure spirit
our fleeting fall
labour — the early war;
original sin
in between the earth and sky
is the shade
of the galaxy
why limit sorrow?
why blank the source?
conquered,
we go on
and put life first
ignore the remnant artifacts
merciless undoings
turned pools,
nudge of time
ordinary notes of care
unleashed poisons
etched
into skin
history’s suitor to time,
shards,
debris
remember remember
remember
the blank silence echoing
days go on,
fewer,
sleep escaping
crying out
it was a home.
cursed nights into mornings,
who can make of this?
what once was theirs,
whatever is left?
emptied, murdered, obliterated
an annihilation
of the ego
the anguish,
the anguish
eyes still seeing last touch
feeling
ancient alone abandoned
what is a year
a month
a decade
but a moment?
—lost and burned
futile devices,
fervour’s writing
mailed to the void
and the sea?
the sea?
the saltwater dead, my love,
the saltwater dead
the last great epitaph
of our love:
i am nobody
i am nobody
and you
are gone
oh, August, a season deceased,
tell me again
the hieroglyph
of your name
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