Wednesday, March 27, 2013

too late, and w/out hope

later, then, in some other desperate
season, after i’d told you i loved you,
after it became a lie

clouds, probably,
or shades of grey
an absence of shadows

an abundance of light,
but all of it dimmed and all
memories shaped by fear and loss

i knew you were gone,
but didn’t care

waited five years to remember your
heat & your touch

had the same dream over & over,
a woman with someone else’s face,
someone else’s body,
but i knew it was you
and i burned all of those poems

i destroyed all of those paintings

saw the man sitting there,
going blind

saw the soldiers tearing out his tongue

cutting off his children’s hands

a million bright red birds
flying from their wrists and
back into the past

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