The ghost of shocked nerves
Blue , frosted veins
Stifled breath - the fog of this memory - soared in me
As I stood - erect like the oldest grain of sand , clinging to a silky thread of strength ....fearing the angry soldiers - they roar - now on my knees -shedding flakes of dead skin -my history
But the poet - hmm
Watches ... Longing to capture this anger with his words
Longing to imprint this "wonder " so perfectly onto his pupils that it is all he sees ..
The poet that doesn't write about me
Looks over me
But remembers me only when
The seas .. Are calm .... And lie on their. Bloated tummies ! Devouring the grapes in the sunrise and sunsets .... And then releases her stress on me ... With me ...
No .. I'm not remembered ... When the combustion of my days .... Make me brittle
No ... I'm not remembered ... When I'm used as a trampoline by wives of the reigning reefs .. To test , play with , and make fun of me - just for mere practice
No ... I'm not remembered when the moon and stars ... Are out ... Set a blaze their enchanting dust ... Binding hearts .. And I am left deserted ... My love has gone in pursuit of the pacific .. I am left to stare .. To feel the emptiness
The echoes of the wind now multiply in this space ...her space ..
To be continued .....
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