orgami's Diaryland
Diary
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monument of greiving
cut my palm against the broken
mirror and seven years of
hurt drip bright throbbing
richottes
the dirt under my nails
are crescents of doubt
and I know fifty seven cents
lies under the bed I stare at the ceiling mapping
the cracks like whip marks
on the horse hides lingering
like poets pages crumpled in
haste the love still scented
with candle light your smile is tilted and filled
with delight
and your mouth sends shivers
of lakelight a cast of stars
littering the lounge
your arm bent and relaxed
your hips fluid I was there dreaming in the
meeting the wind carried
messages of future
cut grass and fragrant perfume
bitter coffee and sun tired
passerbys my coffee has said its fill
and Im quiet digesting the hum
of the turn
and the sun walks away
pulling the dark lake of night
and its whitecap glimmerhope
shivering in rhapsody I listen to Opera on the battered
headphones my legs stretched out
switch to THE HORRORs "Sea within a sea" I remember the guitar
worn from your handiwork
the vibrant strings hit with the
medium pick (tortioseshell and rare)
the smell of bars and patchouli
the scent of you passioned
and warm leaning against the
blonde wood
sliding your hands along the
fretboard I miss you in November
when the snows linger and
frost the stark agony of trees
when they are empty and alone
and I feel naked of soul
knowing that there will never
be another eve
the night we walked steaming
from the showers
the green cotton duvet there are years of linen
memories in dreams
like snowy drifts
and half hearted footprints am I looking for you
Are you following me I stir my coffee and
stare through the frosted
glass pools of loss
growing on the tiles
and amber leaves
torn asunder from the last
tusk of heaven I will forever mourn the us
that never got to be
10:36 p.m. - 2010-07-28
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