My heart has emptied itself into my mind
The same kind of emptiness a leaf has,
Keeping it afloat, and keeping it unfree,
Lying, arrested, on the melancholic mirror,
The teardrops of the foreign gods,

The kind of lonely which has lurked on
Its verdant veins always, always missing their old blood,
Their feet, their seasons, their rootless root wandering,
Wailing, hovering all over the islands and their self-pitying,
Which kept them miserable and sane, sometimes,

As my mind empties itself into my heart,
With all beauty and curse, strength and fragility,
An elixir, the panacea, the venom, the decay,
The memories, the memories, the same thing that
Makes the stars seem shivering while you look at them,
At night, in deep nights, in the course of your sobbing,
When you cannot fully sleep, when a mystic moon
Is but a shard of the sun your spirit was.

This is your pain. This is your mind venting, like eyes,
Like the same eyes that did not look at you
While bidding their goodbyes.*

© 2015 J.S.P.