be with me now in voice help to lift me skywards, lady arms like music box dancer, poised like ballerina pink and blue gauze ballgown, costume jewelry tiara, lipstick smile and pale skin music to dance to until we die on a desk in my sister's bedroom one morning, thin summer light through single glazed window brass window fasteners twisted to open, dusty windows never cleaned, cracked from tennis ball impacts how we leaned out and looked over the gardens and the hedges to somewhere distant our enclosed world bookshelves and drawers and wardrobes crammed full of memory accumulated possessions of 15 years emptied one day our home, full of sunshine and voices, full of waking nightmares we walked the carpets in the small hours trailing dreams from our fingertips our skin and our smell we left in the corners untouched by cleaning I am a small child lost in a red crystal I am a man waiting for a small child to descend from the overworld I am a boy lost in his own cold bones outside an empty dark school waiting for a man to come and bring him home I am an old man trying to remember his father's face lost moments strung together on a tattered string lady, be with me now let me live in the song you lift to the sky your arms and eyes darken and you teach me about the sea one day I said that I would learn how to swim that I would swim the spoiled sea of my parents' dreams let this story fall from me now I am of the sky and the waves and the stars, if you will bless it to be so.
lost we reach for words lost we only for moments crushed how blurred horizon breeds cloud ghosts, blurred vision like rainwater window, songs for sliding down how in panicked sparks sunlight cuts into the mind naming evanescences in amnesiac time, in time of perfect garden, age of gold, names given again for new beginnings meaning emerging from chaos birth sack love from eyes horizon of sisters and brothers and lost toys, lost books, lost living brightness friends poised invisible under weeping willow, unable to cross the water lady wreathed in smoke stepping through puddles that do not touch her skin soaked earth yielding fruit and footprints, lunar memories, a future death plummeting back through time.
touched by voices and listened to by light, we transmigrate these are your windows and doors, winter-chilly and smudged by tears and fingerprints doors in the dark, doors in the day, doors along an endless corridor of what may be that window you flew out of in your mind every night rising through tortured cloud giants purple starfield and streetlight glow naked temples flattened and opened like unpeeled tesseracts into streets and houses and staircases mother and father embracing underneath the black gates like forgiven titans sister and brother hand in hand under petrified glittering forest, canopy of silk and birdflight, music of absolution memories of other planets, washed down through new mind as over waterfall in tiny urban park where as a child you stand and sing, lady where you stand and sing us all to wake again.
Log in or registerto write something here or to contact authors.
Need help? email@example.com