Memory

This is the first poem I've actually written in a year or two. There's a lot of pent-up feelings and regrets in it, and I think I -might- actually be proud of it.

I'm talking to myself, lifting my spirits

Fighting against a great fall.

Every silent wish, every word unspoken

Softly waltzing in forgotten places.

Each graceful footstep brushes away time

Wasted, forgotten

Time I thought ill-spent.

Every bone in my body trembles with wanton desire

Reminiscent for the honeydew I once tasted;

Soft, vindicating, sweet and savory

A refreshing memory for my cracked lips

And a familiar taste for my world-weary tongue.

The fruit of your lips, though gone away

Is never forgotten, never denied.

Your voice howls through the trees

A haunting tune, riding along the breath of the wind

Backed by the chants of whippoorwills.

When I watch the clouds at sunset, I can still see your face

A tapestry weaved by nature, painted beautifully by recollection

And when the sun disappears behind the horizon, her light weary for sleep

Your eyes still watch me.

A thousand points of light, star-touched and kissed by God

Make me feel warm, desired, and thankful.

I'd love to forget, and drift away in a blissful sea of denial

But I breathe you,

I taste you,

Your memory is never out of reach.