~old friends and lovers

Lover of my pen dissolve into me like the ink into the paper

My words have no harsh message to deliver

only your strong soft and my wanting 

 

The air around us is thick and heavy

there were so many losses and they hide

in memories and dreams and you have loved another

her scent is on your words,

I smell her in your proclamations of lust for me

.. but we both know that lust is cracked and peeling skin

so you shift, using words you hope will seduce a soul

 but there is her scent all over your words

   and pretty empty words are still

     … pretty empty words

 

You may always stand in the shadow of the effigy I built

that one man who I created which is only a shadow

as we were the best of friends then, and I told you all my secrets

I think I loved you, an image of you, shades of you

 

We fall in love with shadows

as the night sky forgets to move

I shift my thoughts away from all that emptiness

grab a shadow and wish it sapphire and star-filled

   I smell her scent in the light…

toss the words away and we hang, paused in the Now

  

 

I ask, “Shall we dance?”

 

There is no music but we both know

   we need the words, even if her scent is on your pillow

 we will dance 

as there is nothing more terrifying

  

     than the mundane

 

©  Katherine Wyatt  All Rights Reserved  2016

 

 

 

Reviews

[Richard🖌]

Hi, Katherine!
It is but Richard here, come to pay a visit, to enjoy the breadth and essence of your words as they dance upon the page, straight into my knowing being.
Finally, here is something I can fully and totally relate to … not necessarily in exact occurrences, but surely in the nuances of your well-struck moments that paint so vividly what it is like to once have had it all (in a cyber sense), to have it dissipate thought by thought, feeling by feeling, sensation by sensation, until it still remains in memory's enjoyment and luscious desires, ribbons twisting and floating through every fiber, sure you both could reclaim it all, both knowing (secretly) you cannot … yet, there's undeniable the ache to, the yearning for it, such a need — one is left with the temptation to find it again, but the fire is not the inferno it once was.
Yes, how correct you are, Katherine … wishes, dreams, desires to reclaim, to reignite will never the same; for, the one element missing that gave it life is the glow of new and willing "in-love" hunger, passion, and emotion.
I've heard it said that once one falls out of love, they never can fall in-love again with the same person. I suppose these are that which sparks great poems, and yours here proves how true it is, eh?
Then, what can one do when they both are still in-love with the love they once had, or is it in-yearning, aching? This is a rhetorical, yet an open and honest question.

Such is the wondrously powerful poeting, M'Lady, you've spoken in far more truly and honestly beautiful metaphor and poetic voice than I ever could, that all I've left to express is my gracious and grateful thanks to You … with awe, I bow! ⁓ Richard