The Idiom of Pain I think of You and a million other things Life prescribes. To metropolitan anomie. Of an inebriated evening. As airs of indifference Suffocate your songs Into silence. And memories Of red roses. A melody on a lonely summer night. And the magnificient moon. Among other beautiful things. You and I , Reflect aimlessly Upon neon lights. The phrases I once whispered in your ears Undulate malignantly, Into lyrics In a moment of impudent abandon As distant voices dissolve into dreams Of a new dawn. My feet sink Insidiously In time. Indiscreet moments precipitate Gradually Into a different dance. I unlearn an eternity in an Ephemeral trance. Somewhere I have heard of love Indeed till death does us part I have heard the songs of innocence And known the eyes, angry in anticipation of Uncertain Silences retreating Home. As I think Of you and a million other things The moonlight curls about me in a gentle embrace I close my eyes And the city continues to convulse In an incessant effort To forget itself. Silhouettes Undress into shades of grey And a rhapsody palpitates Hesitatingly in Unison. We sit. The still of the storm Ensconced on your lips. your hand in mine. You open your eyes. The umbra fragments And a procession of color Cascades into consciousness. Silence Paraphrases the idiom Of pain. And essays an ecstacy.
Posted on: Fri, 28 Mar 2014 17:11:13 +0000