это конец

[she_burns__x]

i do not weep for you
my love.

i no longer cling
to the lining of your underbelly and how
you used to tell me i was
beautiful/
your face was seared into my retina
but i razored it out, slicing you
from my sight

i do not weep for you
my loss.

i no longer cling
to the future of memories, 3 dimensional
and so so real/
the truth is,
you were never right
for me

and i shake and shake and shear and sail
i've sighed and swalloed this choking pill
i shrug and sleep and most definitely
i do not weep,
for you, my lost love
for you, my joy.

i weep for the rotten fruit we left to sugar on the vine
overladen with its own syrupy sweetness, fermenting odorous
the time came for our love to be picked
but oh, we are so young and foolish, in feeling
but not speaking,  and loving
but not living.  i weep, my long gone,
for our ghost of what we never embraced
i weep, radost moya,
for our capacity left untouched

but it sturdies me to know
that it would not have made a difference
anyway.

this poem is the end,
of what could have been
a fairytale, but instead it fades
into the ether, as if
it never existed.
this poem is the end, radost moya.
para ti, radost moya.
para mi, radost moya.
para radost moya, sin tu,
y tu, sin yo.

это начало