Thursday, March 21, 2013

here, somewhere

I could somehow bear it, you know, 
until I swallowed your words and swift silences 
gripped my hands, wringing too hard —

guillotines oddly streaked with roseate radiance, 
bursting blooms suddenly insistent: 
leather leashes must be loosed

I could somehow endure harsh sounds of tearing, 
canyons ripping inside my heart, 
torrents forming niches in rocks too old to remember 
what drought had wrought, what night had learned 
when stars were born, then quietly, brilliantly died 

barren horizons — 
wing├ęd things rendered flightless,
chords torn cruelly from tender throats,
etched, twined under shadows of barbed wire fences

what I could never write before 
has spilled, stolen from dry eyes 
onto, into white embraces of paper,
origami's unfolding anguish

as heaviness swollen beneath my ribs, 
its heft too wise as I lingered, 
dreading uneasy meetings with mourning

old photographs finally found 
do not tempt or taunt with the same intensity 
or gilded grace you held so softly
and I am still — 

here, somewhere, 
cleft where you cannot be

my songs are numb, 
yet I remember heroic horses' hooves thundering, 
wild manes whipping, such fierce wind as we flew

tumbling in forever's fields