A name I cannot speak
a scottish graveled path
phantom like rises
in misty memory
of a memory never lived
only in heart, in possibilities
signed away upon an altar
To bury you -
never born nor even borne
leaving a hollowness
where you could have been -
in soil though fertile
never to nourish the seedling
of you of me
which I signed away upon an altar
dying this deathless death
parts of me, facets
shimmering through
an open window like
being a bearer
of one whose name I cannot speak
the graveled scottish path
winding round a splintered heart
under which you never nestled
under which the fruit
of you never hung
down heavy low
yet I know the weight of you
I feel them all
these touches of you
who never was
whose name I cannot speak
my scottish graveled path
whom I signed away upon an altar