Time is fleeting
as the spring river runoff
that gushes out to sea
A heart trickles out
a moment,
minute by minute,
in a timeless ink drop;
unmeasurable expanse
immured in spilled ink ―
manifest in the lexicon of poetry
For only purged words
cannot quench this thirst
that is loneliness;
it's a hunger that gnaws
like an unsatisfiable ache ―
a starving emptiness
all hearts
do one day taste
Left in the sight
of doubt
and eyes that fail
to believe what they see
lain fallow in the silent
indifference
Lost in a lingering void
unburied all around,
bespoken out loud
alone in plain sight
a feigned understanding;
reticent letters shape
reluctant words
to hold forth
enunciated breathe
The only words
that still echo unstilted ―
uttered words
indelibly felt
from lips once sweet
as daybreak dew
upon musing tongue ―
tasting the only
voiceless truth
that ever broke my heart
a vanishing wave
that moved an ocean
deeply ...
Jesse Stillwater ... 06 6 2018