waxing, planetary
odd moonlight—

the faces are whetted to diamonds.
the paralytic shadow begins
to twitch;

benign light froths to full afternoon,
this sedentary creature in between teeth,
a clear consonant of dull air.

thereby gleaming, tapered to
a nightingale's song;
i take my place amongst the elements
of night: as if to say a new portrait in mausoleum crossed by grass and aureole

the laughter shattering its dull one—
a lurid memory, all to itself amongst
kindred of parks.

At the Crematorium
white smoke curls
and coils
and drifts
- a wisp
of your hair.

Blood-red rich roses
thrive in bone rich soil
velvety smooth
and secret-scented
- the inside skin
of your wrists.


          
© M.L.Emmett

You left with no single words, not even goodbye.
Left me without a final kiss to cover up this sins we made.
I had no idea what happen.
All I know now is I have a broken heart, wandering eyes, bitterness and a heavy mind.
Do I even cross your mind? or you erased me, erased even in your memories.
Do you ever think of me? I often think of you, and often think of where did I went wrong?
I gave you space to breath.
I kept my distance.
I hoped that you'll find, find those missing piece, back to me.
Do you even remember me?
Do you even remember why you loved me?
Do you? baby pls remember me.
Remember the reasons you love me before.
Remember me once more.

I have never fallen in love,
at least that's what I allow myself to believe.
I haven't gone mad for anyone or
done the crazy things that I should do if I were in love.

I've never had someone say they loved me.
I've never been fancied by someone I fancied.
I've thought, "He must like me"
I've been happy for weeks knowing he likes me...
I've fallen from the sky knowing how wrong I was.

I've thought he made me believe he loved me.
I'd like to believe he was playing with me,
or even playing me,
But not even that.

How could I have loved anyone then,
when there was no one to love?
No one I should have fallen for.

But why then do they say that I must
have fallen in love at some point of this life of mine?
After not allowing myself to believe I had,
I confronted myself.

Why do I see his face in the children
who merely lift their eyebrows?
Why do I always see that smile of his,
even when we never met up again?
Why do I feel pained and at the same time happy
that he is happy, with someone else?

And then I come to the realization
that I could have loved,
a long time ago
when he sat next to me.
And maybe even I did love.

For he didn't need to do
anything to receive this emotion.
His being was all he needed
for my inexperienced heart to turn towards him,
and not be his... but definitely turn towards him.

And with his ignorance,
or maybe not-so-ignorant self
He scarred my heart with his indifference.
Yet not a scar of hate or heartbreak--
but one of remembrance that won't leave.

So did I ever love?

I really don't know.

I wake in the morning,
Lips tender,
But not sore.
The feeling of your kiss,
Still teasing my lips,
Hours upon hours later.
The memory of your hands,
Roaming my body.
Grabbing,
Teasing,
Pulling me closer and closer.
I can almost feel you,
Hard under my touch.
The way your body tensed.
The sound of your heart,
Beating, racing, pounding...

When the dead come back to me
It’s because I can’t forget
The gifts they gave me, and
Ones I haven’t gotten yet.
It’s not like I’m having tea with
Some undead moldy skeleton.
Just listen closely and you will
Understand it all when I am done.

As it’s not all Disney roses
When these spirits come to call.
I think they come back to haunt
Whenever they feel the call.
It runs about fifty-fifty most times
Between the horrors and the glories.
Everyone from my past it seems
Wants to share with me their stories.

Some of them are active now
And alive as they can be
But they left me and went away
So, they are as dead to me.
They come to make me question
Issues of what’s wrong and right
When the dead come to talk
With me alone, in dark of night.

I used to fret and wring my hands
And try to decipher their signs.
But now I accept it as what it is
And today I feel it’s all just fine.
I am sure it is worth more to me
To understand what has gone by.
So when the dead come back to me
I have begun to understand why.

If by chance I were to run into you,
Flood gates would break inside of me, never letting you know, that all of the feelings I have for you never left, you see.
They remain close and true, and soon to be bottled up for someone else to drink.
But as for now I go my way, with a brief glance and remembrance to never leave my heart astray.

©A. Harris