Him

July 31, 2018 by Aspergers Girls Leave a comment

My heart

How it weeps

Beating, beating, beating

Lapped in smiling sorrow

Standing on the outside

Of closed wooden door

 

Aged echoes

Pounding, repeating, rewinding

Chipping away

As axe to birch

As birch to splintered reminisce

 

Cavernous ache awakens

As if never spent

As if never seen

His vivid river breath

Blown into hollowed alcoves

 

Familiar ebony caves

Imprisoned within

The evergreen, towering timber

Strangled in familiar entanglement

Choking vines of ivy, masked

Some shrouded ecstasy

 

Dampening moss surrounds

Suffocating coverlet

And I rise

Once more

This delicate songbird

Breast to neck, plucked blue feathers

 

Beaked holdings of ribboning ivory

Starch-like, in its dawning

We wait

Two begging mosaics

Still blindly pounding

 

At the other’s door