Don’t ask why

Through this dusty world, like peeking through a cloud.
I caught you in that position.
One to wear with no remorse.
As if I could.
You fill up my pockets.
You scratch at my soul.
A lovelorn, well-worn hand of care.
That fits me like a glove.

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It always rains in my memory

I never let the weeds grow there, but the vines took hold.
Choked out the light and freedom for us both.
That place, darkening now the harder I remember.
You said you’d always meet me there.
Where the street and the sorrow fell away.
Reach for me you said, and you can touch my face.
The essence of divinity here on earth.
Now you shimmer like a diamond, caught in the empty space of time.
Untouchable, yet desired. Clouded by invisible hands.
I always smiled in these places. These foggy bits of the past.
You did that. You put this thing in me that forced the change.
Drew the happiness out like an antidote to sadness.
The weighting of you, and the love that cocooned.
But you have departed on the winds of indifference.
Blown out to sea, lost forever in the sinking ship of us.
In the darkness which suffocates and strangles.
Leaving me conscious, but only just; to see the wreck I’ve made.
And now, it always rains in my memories.
Blanketing my world in water.
But nothing ever washes away.

Tears of the Gods

His heart, now the colour of his wife. Broke apart.
The urn smashed, scattering them both across the clouds.
As the volcanoes rumbled and the gods groaned.
Down they both came in the rains.
Licked up by the wood spirits and the humans below.
Pooling in the heart of the world, flecks of life;
and the cast down tears from Olympus.

Lap of the Gods

His brow, wet from the rain, cast skyward.
A heart yearning for explanation and soothing.
His climb monumental, each step a weight of a world.
The spirits plucked his heartstrings like a lyre.
Coursing a music in his soul.
The mountains surrounded him, closed in like monsters teeth.
A wife held close still.
Tiny grey fragments on his skin, parted only by an urn and disbelief.
Soldiering on, he watched Apollo bury the light for another day.
Darkening his journey and settling into his bones.
Light air and fables coiled around him as he reached the summit.
The fates had been wrong, he was to die on the ascent.
Strangled in the thin air and half-hearted inclination.
Here’s mud in their eyes he thought as he looked beyond the clouds.
A flickering light, and eye to mystery.
Shimmering into view like many untold stories spat from a fire.
The great mount, the seat of all and the divine rose into view.
His heart melted into honey as the sight expanded in his eyes.
Before it turned to stone, unable to stand the wonders before him;
knowing the climb had just been steps towards the sacred.
Tiptoes on the precipice at the edge of the world.

Lost in the faraway

The conjuring dreams.
Of moments in time.
Love lost on your lips.
Your hand in mine.
Kicking this cactus heart around.
Fresh like mint on my tongue.
Calling you out of the clouds.
Out of my bones that feel as heavy as China.
One of those falling dreams.
Like you’re here.
But still gone.

Cotton

My feet hurry the ground, and the soil gives way.
Waking to find you next to me. Wrapped up against the world.
We move in emotions, wandering the streets and taking trains to anywhere.
The fabric fantasy of space and love, as we disappear completely.
Plunging through clouds, walking on cotton. The skyline shifts and all glass shatters.
My world is safe, my world is soft.
Feather light and filtered, expunging the dirt of life.
You take my hand, feeling for my pulse with your textile touch.
Feeling further into my soul while the sun and rain pours down upon us.
Umbrellas by the lake and warmness in my heart.
I could live here forever, lost in the gossamer threads of now.
Washed into the white existence of your love.
Then you spill ink over my world.
Staining, seeping and leaking through.
Destroying the pure white fabric of my dream that anything had changed.

Transitory

Waking up from one of those stormy dreams.
Dusting off the snow, wringing out the rain. Blinking through and seeing the hereafter.
How does the truth feel? How does my love resonate?
Placing one foot in front of the other, as I tiptoe out of the past.
Blue skies all the way, though I still don’t know which direction to head.
Draining off the artificial sweeteners.
The ones that kept me synthesized, crying out for attention.
I’ll make my way into tomorrow, u the clouds aside; laughing at the rain.
All transitory self-emotion.
Coating myself in war paint.
A Real version of me.
Falling away, soaking up the sun.