Its as if I saw
His last breath fly
-out into the universe
I saw it in the stars
In the wind it gently
-Evokes my tears
it slipped through my hands
as I leaned in to kiss it
- now I chase it
tackling the slow
melancholies of
-my memories
what was is now
as the child in me
-reaches out to grab
and push the breath
back in
-that it may never end
shoved down my throat
is the ache
-that is building its castle
it crumbles on me
while I search
-to find the remnants
of the picture
before it was ripped
-my tongue cries out
I lick each torn piece
Hands shaking
To put it back together
The gaze
Of each face before me
-Envelops my body
Lifts it to the moon
Where light thins into darkness
And the breeze brings me back
-my breath….
Lisa--I found you!! Your writing is gorgeous...I am totally in awe of your depth. Please keep it up.
ReplyDeleteAlso--Tim Lowly was one of my professors in college! Who knew! His paintings of Temma are exquisite, aren't they? I'm so glad they are blessing you too.
Big love!!!