I
remember somber nights, paddling through golden eyes, at ease with tender rain;
to find us as so many tears, driven by inhibitions, as torn by candid cameras;
while to mention mirrors, those bold intrusions, while screams cascade as
waterfalls. So much for pagan rites, where love was uttered, upon billows nigh
the seashore; while if ever a man, to suffocate a woman; and if ever a woman,
to persecute a man: this was our vicious lot. I remember joyous days, an
undercurrent of tensions, held by chance this velvet star; to love a wild urge,
as two confounded dearly, as longing for eternity; with little for patience,
eager for gratification, positioned to mourn the Day Sun. I see us more, as
years stipple a silent moon; I hear us less, as words become inscriptions; as
subtle as a bee sting, as swollen as flesh, as debated as pyramids; that sullen
anger, to hold the tassels of life, racing to find such eyes: that fatal fang;
that feral fire; as forever that fever; while never is eternal, such deep
betrayal, as but a moment in that garden. I find us drifting, as rumors upon a
grapevine, to grip a heart by a shallow hello! It’s been so real—this wrenching
wave, this wall of caves; while souls further retreat, as filled with malice,
as honored as poverty; as such a vow, so valued by few, as portrayed this vest
of life; where such to perish, this beautiful color, such agony knitting prose;
as to love us more, at least one last round, to build where Eden has failed;
for this is love, a decade of grieving, to fill a bleeding wound: while heaven
is seasick, while hell is heartsore, while limbo is confused! I find us
running, where arms are reaching, sinking into paradise.
