Celia As She Wanders

Standard

i

At a loss of my HEART
the CIRCULATION in my BODY
and VESSELS
go HAYWIRE
with VEINS all BLOCKED and OH-

ii

When I think of you
I faintly taste rice,
rose hips, and winter

i am carrying a stifled love,
an exhausted,
misplaced wanderer.

oh cant you see?
when the door opens,
I can still love you
just as if it could have been.

but if only that were true,
with butter melting over the crescent moon
“come, oh night” says she who waits!

the window
is nothing

the hour
is late,

and my her bones look fragile…..

was she tired?
no

but never once the doorbell rang
never once she heard them clammer, with

kites
and
maypoles
flying!

and now she faces the breath of that
empty un-struck noise
of that tangible
cold,
described only by the horses
as they canter away:
my my her bones look fragile…..

iii.

when they are merging the lanes,
by her ankles
are smooth
cool
cornerstones
of the mountain she meant to climb
yesterday.

Lord, she knows! She knows it, damn!
when you hold her she was everything!
when you hold her she grabbed the sky!
when you hold her she wanted the light to hold the world in it and kiss it over
and over again!

and now she sits heavy
on the ghostly porch
where she once saw you smile.

that ache she never speaks of
as she gazes at her
reflection in the
mirror–
“what about me?”
“what about me?”

Copyright 2014 Golden Star Poetry

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