(no subject)

[ohcomfortxyou]

"Poetry is a mute melody in the head of every dumb animal.
It is a descant rising out of the heart of darkness.
It is the light at the end of the tunnel and the darkness within it.
It is the morning dove mourning night.
It is the morning dove mourning love, and nothing cries out like the
cry of the heart."

Dearest One,

I seem to have loved you in infinite forms, in life after life, age after age forever. My entranced heart has made and remade this necklace of songs I send to you now, which you can wear in your many forms, in life after life, age after age.
You and I have floated on the stream that springs from the fount of love for one another, old love, but in shapes that are renewed forever and forever, universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life, the memories of everybody's love merging with this one love of ours-

but the songs i
have from
you remain in spaces
not repeated,
beige peeling wall paper
stained with
remnants of nights long
passed
and the echo of
pipe-lit
conversation,
the songs a mere background
to my botched goodbye
wake up call
beside your photogenic
angles,
pure flesh meeting flesh
meeting cigarette

goodbye.

may i never let the shapes
of you renew
themselves over
to dispel
my open soft spots,
but if you did
love some part of me
let it
merge with the
memories of
everybody's love,
and let the necklace of
your hidden melodies
drape over my apologetic
collar
shaky and unrehearsed.