And now awake in thoughts, I see
Explained - a lead heart and a light head,
For while the hours shall console me
Awake, by her, alone on my bed.
…
I had forgotten the grey,
The dark of rising smoke-
Light form, dark nature.
I had forgotten the fire,
The blaze at the lit tip-
Smoldering, sputtering.
I had forgotten the warmth,
The coal pot ignited within-
Expansive, compressed.
I had forgotten headiness,
Losing oneself to find escape-
Evasive, uncertain.
I had forgotten the first rush,
The strong vapor burning-
Rising, dragging.
I had forgotten the feel,
The clasp between two fingers-
Textured, wilting.
I had forgotten the bow,
The head, accepting fire on lips-
Breathless, inhaling.
I had forgotten death,
The goodbye at the end of this-
Fiery, waiting.
But now I remember,
And now I accept,
And now I inhale
And exhale each breath.
…
So...
What of the brewing and bubbling,
And brimming over of affections
That so clearly have you searing them
With fiery distance now?
What about the scars you hid all day;
The scars that were kissed, and
Only seemed to heal in touch,
Are hidden again now?
What about the tears you shed
Quietly, in the unseen corners
Through distraught corners of eyes
Wiped clear now?
What about the shared fragrance
That titillates in your absence,
Shamelessly obtuse to my pain,
Only more now?
What of the bottle of lotion white,
Resting restless upon my shelf,
In parting of your touch and smear;
Another lotion now?
What about the strands of hair
That pillows held back as memoirs,
Or taunts, that taunt in my sleep,
Additional now?
What about the books that lie
Dog-eared, bookmarked - idly,
In wait of fingers that folded them
To unfold now?
So...?
…
It wasn't the cold bullet
That pierced my heart,
Or the fact that you shot it;
It wasn't the motive,
The madness or the mart,
Whence you'd once bought it.
Many a blood drop had I spilled,
To see you spill but none.
Many a mean soul had I killed,
If fate cruelly had some fun.
It was none of these I died from,
None had potency, quite none ;
If only I'd heard the wise, some,
If only you weren't the one
...
It leaps in me and grows in time,
Your heart; for now and ever is mine,
I guard it well, I do my part,
I guard your heart, with just my heart.
It grows each day, this heart oft swells,
It makes more room for yours; here dwells.
Break it, you may; I'll take that risk,
I'll trade my beat for a beat more brisk.
Push me away, and I'll stand in line,
I'll wait for years, I'll bide my time.
Tear me apart, I'll smile through the pain,
I'll rebuild our house, you'll love me again.
We live only twice- as I, and as we,
I'll await our second union to be.
You walk away now; I'll mark your retreat
And when you return, my heartache will fleet,
Sleep will return, I seek it only here;
I seek it to forget you aren't yet near.
Yet.
…
I'm worried..
I'm worried that if you don't hear my voice, you'll forget the love that it bears when it calls your name..
I'm worried that when I see you next, you may not recognize me with my face torn by our separation..
I'm worried that people will know what a gem I've found, and they'll fall in love with you too..
I'm worried the rain gods will pour down to hide my tears, so much that our cities would flood..
I'm worried that my insanity would drive me when your love doesn't temper it down..
I'm worried the smell, that allure that draws me to you, will change in time..
I'm worried that the heart that echoes your name in each beat, will stop sometime..
I'm worried the distance will make you forget these times that I've loved you true..
I'm worried that time won't let you forget the distances we've made sometime back..
I'm worried if before my life returns, my breath shall collapse to a stop..
…
It's a shame I cannot tell you
Of the things I tell myself-
The restless dreams,
The hopeless yearn
For unforetold days.
It's a shame I cannot share
Freak joys that are abound-
The littleness of the big,
The largeness of the small
And our lives thereupon.
It's a shame you will not know
This ode I write of you-
The miseries of hearts,
The joyful dances too
In broken entwine.
It's a shame you cannot say
More than you do now-
The flicker of approval,
The ticker of skipped beat
In a quelled heart.
It's a shame we cannot be
Otherly to written fates-
The sameness of tomorrow,
The newness of past days
And our grind amidst.
…