As he stand rooted -
mesmerised by the dance of lashes.
Alluring glances
from such beguiling eyes.

A flame then rekindled,
flickering weak…
Where once a chapter had died.

A foreign beating…
A rhythm he once knew and played.
Fuelled in trickles,
till a fire was stoked.

•••

He still stands frozen,
entranced and enamoured,
by the irises that sang a tune
too familiar.

Resurrecting joy
while planting the seed of cancer
only time will nurture.

we fly
with lofty feathers
albeit shorn wingtips

we speak
but with pregnant minds
albeit engorged nibs

There’s no respite
from this spectre
from memories dead.

There’ll be more moons
before vigil relinquishes
its stead.

.
“Isn’t this
what you had always
hoped for her?”
she asked.

And he said,
“So much...”
as tears from his eyes
flowed freely
into the limitless forever.

.

             my lips spoke true then
a time when the sun was sure              

            now, broken verses


.

.

I’ve grieved…
Not so much over what was lost.
More so the way
I tried to bury these memories.

Candles…
that for a time once,
stoked hale,
unflickering flames.

All tied to strings
that lead straight to my heart
and all partially buried…
In many a shallow grave.

•••

Perhaps because a deeper tomb
would mean a lesser purchase
and looser grip on these strings.

I never could let go…

.

If the feeling is pure,

unbiased and untainted,

why then does the heart


                            bleed black


.

.

just as his cheeks
and tongue
tasted salt,

the porcelain
tasted warm crimson

.

.

Nights don’t change…

Perhaps just the stories
they weave in infinites
from the fires of stars
and embers of hearts…

Or perhaps it’s the way
they were captured
and deciphered;
Reworded and retuned
to the song and dalliance
of the hand-wielded ink.

.

still and quiet nights
words come in stifling cascades
borne of sky and stars

.

.
desert rock.

seemingly impervious to harshness.

but it too gets whipped and worn
by relentless winds that lash it
ever so slightly with subtle promises
laced with veiled threats.

again and again.

•••

desert rock.

lays still in absolute.
its body and face wrinkled
with lash-lines.

they tell only silent tales…

that all could see
but did not hear.

Streaks of oranges
and yellows.
Faint traces of violet
that meld with azure.

Swallows fly home,
with chirps
that bear no ill.

Silent breeze flowing
between the blades of grass,
tickling the leaves
into voiceless giggles.

•••

He watches on
and rests his vision,
upon the beauty of weightlessness.

His eyes see through heavy green
and brimming with envy.

.
Second by second
Time flits by so, so quickly
Lost in the abyss

.

.
It was taken
away

and I’ve been
trying
to catch it
ever since.

.