Walls of a Well

This once was an island,
and I couldn’t save you from

blue riptides–A premonition
of some vague turquoise depth

dying, like your eyes,
reason why wind is more biting

today, more wild than months
have been rolling. I’ll believe

your good-natured erraticism
will be effecting waves for a while, now,

always in season, impassible life
I have to find without you here,

you’ll leave a light off and I’ll wait
for the right reason

to pick up again, after it’s been
a long time since I can remember

your face, find a decaying
town to pick Gladioli.

Now it’s a plague on our beating
hearts; yesterday, a fever,

today, a melody that won’t lead
a song into my arms,

so tired of writing euologies already,
I’ll sing of the windowsills

we sat against, getting tired
of a haze-covered town

crumbling around us,
now crumbling with you.



for A.M.


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