Of History And Poetry

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was in love with the audacity of words
Sailing over minds like ruffled notebook paper
Outlining margins where I grabbed a firm hold
Crumbling envisions and fantasies conjured untold
A divinamente moment
I held those reflections close to my chest
And could feel a succulence nourishing a barren soul  
There we existed for a time as one until
Eventually I grew accustomed to the isolation
My heart climbed its way back inside my mind
Beat so loudly at times I about lost it for a minute
You see
I believed in conceived words
She could never see past them
Even dreams I dreamed I more than imagined
Choreographed to the march of my own million women
Their footprints sturdy and loud across my desk
Suitable replacements until my muse cites again
Of all the loves that I adore, she’s my favorite
Her words pierce through and speak to me in tongues ancient
Imagine my surprise when first setting sights on her treasure chest
She held the key for a time, and I
A smile, a grin, a cocky complacency
And all I wanted to do was start writing again 
See, you can’t dispel enslavement without amen
And although I was captive to her elements
I couldn’t help but think that loving her ideas
Would make me forget her and I were always meant
To be true
I’ve tried not to
Rely on others telling stories to bring out my truth 
But her minces sowed seeds deeper than
An untended garden 
Where lovers bodies lie spent
It goes on like this -
Where language and meaning are often felt most intentional
There remains no emptiness when thoughts fade from our mental 
For we shall always be wrought heavy, deep in mystery  
While unraveling each others mazes
We
Re-write
History.

image credit: heatherspettals.deviantart.com

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