On figuring out when it began and when it will end...

wane
Pronunciation: \ˈwān -
1 : to decrease in size, extent, or degree :
a : to diminish in phase or intensity - used chiefly of the moon, other satellites
b : to become less brilliant or powerful
2 : to fall gradually from power, prosperity, or influence

silently

wane
Pronunciation: \ˈwān -
1 : to decrease in size, extent, or degree :
a : to diminish in phase or intensity - used chiefly of the moon, other satellites
b : to become less brilliant or powerful
2 : to fall gradually from power, prosperity, or influence

a wound that never healed

without closure the skin never meets
over the gash
the tissue never reforms
and its just raw
tender to the touch

the weapon was the loss of you
your silent goodbye
walking past me without a word
truths hidden
kept between you two
and the trust i poured out like a fresh gallon of milk
only to sour and rot
destined for an empty jug
a heart with nothing in it
curdled and dry

and the wounds have never healed
because none of it was ever closed
left open and bare
a mess untended and repressed

what i want is to heal
the scars to go away too
to trust again
that you are good
kind and gentle

a full jug
a million gallons
of love
that ive missed
for far too long

your magesty

the wind it whipped it
the low arching branches
sag and heave
ready to sleep
bare boned and raw
yet we caught it
before the leaves dropped
just as they curled into themselves
saving their warmth

so we cut the branches down
one for you
one for me
and you bent yours around
a leafy willow moon
that you placed on my head

a crown for a queen you said
as you leaned down to meet me

so i worked your moon in my hands
waxing it with care
for your own crown was as full as my heart
was with love

and we walked as if we had our land
arms locked - crowns alike
we danced through the city streets
and granted wishes to all who passed by

lucid

i see you in the fog
clinging to the tree tops,
their leaves all fire and flame
your white body soft,
it simply rests on their shoulders
yet when you see me pass by
you just tug their tips
and the embers rain down,
dying and infinite

in the presence of a stranger

I cried

talking about unrequited love
your old lover
my failures and wounds

my wish to have been honored
to have been given the gift
of truth
and respect

the tears streamed down my face
hot in the already warm room
the rug underfoot was a south west sunset
one which we saw together
now my tears wet it
extinguished its fire

At that moment I paused
my wavering voice
filled the room
yet the heat from my wet eyes
made the space seem quiet

I finally looked at this strangers face
and realized she had tears in her eyes too -
for I was at the point in the story where I said

"I just want love and I want truth
and I want to be treated with kindness...
but that's not what has ever happened
and now I have to deal with it all again,
broken and alone"

her kind face crumpled in sadness and I fell apart
I rested my head back and let the tears
stream down my neck and into my hair

in just under an hour
I described the struggle of childhood
the abuse as a teenager
and the tender love
that has just unraveled
in my heart

all in the presence of a stranger

ice house

we have built our home on a block of ice
only to watch it melt
our bodies slipping into its muddy underneaths
and shivering from the slow transition


I

this evenings walkings brought me
down alleyways of bursting flowers
the unripe blackberries
never crushed under hot tongues
grasses still green
and dry land soon to be winter moistened

II

the structure began to crack
all those months ago
imperceptible hairline fractures
shifting the view from eachothers eyes
and our feet began to get cold
our soles growing flaky peeling and cracked

III

the mud has stained everything
the mixture of ice and water and dirt
up to our thighs
smeared on our backs when we decide
that we want our bodies to lay together
to rest in the sludge and dream

IV

i sit in these same clothes
from the last 3 days
with the dried thickness on my sleeves
the smell of the earth drying on the fibers
and in my hair
the mud dries out our skin
and we tear off layers of it
in a vain attempt to make it all go away

V

we may find another structure
to build it on again
but i will remember that building such a thing -
upon the solid of a liquid
or the ephemera of a moment
will always lead to the landslide
of heart heat and feeling
that will wash us both away
and wash us far apart