imposed on the spot just above
my third eye, where you pressed
your lips into a kind of goodbye
that isn't really gone
I want those ashes to sit
in the center of this sorrow
that makes my chest heave
with heaviness; and your
last intense look that said you
understood and allowed my
choices, but did not agree
(I have learned the language
and speak fluent optical allusion)
mardi gras--fat Tuesday
was round with words
that explained but didn't match
the love left at the table
surrounded by fare fit
for royalty and we gorged
ourselves with laughter
and memories of first times
and last conversations
I gave up on happiness
as a landed place a long time ago
and want only to not slide into
abysmal funk that hinders
the daily movement of grace
we are lovers
and so we love
and loving comes
with all the
consequences
of those who do
not understand it
even the need
to walk away
if only for a while
I will wait for you somewhere in time
in dreams that hold your face
I'll remember the tender hand
under elbow and the eyes that
dance as well as any feet
somewhere in the cosmos
somewhere in eternity
as these ashes
rest, a memorial
to what is
and might
always be
but can't
© Valerie Bridgeman
February 13, 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment