I woke and slept everyday
in the cool of December
even in June
it was always December
I liked walking to the
cement step and feeling
winter kiss my nose, while morning birthed to a layer of clouds
all the layers I built
couldn't block the bite of the wind
I loved the way it
chapped my skin
turned it red
cracked me wide open
my pores separated
and were burned by ice.
I lived in a gray stillness of life
the sun rose white
and with the moon, rose a sea of black
that engulfed me
I would lay under a blanket of
stars with my lover
we created a love
too bold for the heavens
too damned for hell
even in the dark
there was an ocean of light in the
crystal blue glass of her
eyes. A sea of life
the waves crashed into me
and though I tried to stand firm on my own
I was thrown to my knees
and she became a manifestation of me
it was shown through my soul
and created a warmth
our love was a weapon against
the wrath of the bitter
chill
untouchable
she was my fire in the night
when she laced her fingers in mine
and placed her delicate frame in
the security of mine
there was an overwhelming
stillness about it all
something so complete
about the sincerity of it all
the irony of it all
the whole peace of it all
sadly on the first day
of the summer season
the tide fell short of its
certain glory
and just like that
she walked away
to be the warmth for another
I hated the sun that day
I had lead a life fueled by a bitter wind
there was no way to grasp
the warmth in a way
so unexpected
I could still taste the fullness of
Her being
my arms still hung to the shape
of her body
my lips still formed a shape so
perfectly fitted to hers
and though the sun shone brighter
that night
my voice froze over
and I could so much as
speak anything to melt it
the chapped skin
so accustomed
to the bite of winter
now burned hot in the sun
and any artificial
counterpoint
became a counter strike
that couldn't replace
what had become
little more than routine
my night was subdued
to a zone of frenzied
sleeplessness
dreaming
of a time when blankets were
enough because the warmth
of her was enough to
keep heat
the wind brought about years of new seasons
and fueled the fires I
created in the night
oxygen to emit life
my body fell back to
a shape of its own
and my eyes
no longer overflowed
with rivers of memory
they froze inside me and
couldn't flow out
but were harder to see through the ice
I found ways to keep the
flame ablaze
and just like father winter
slipped into the sheets
of mother nature
so did I slip into the sheet of warmth
brought about by the fire
though I had grown old, I cut down my wood
in the single of every day
and burned my day's work for the moon
it was many years past and though
women had kept my bed
no one gave me the warmth
my lady once did
I had moved on
and created imitation comfort
just enough to keep a light on
the memory of her still frozen inside me
I had waited too long one night and
it was too late to cut my wood
I walked to the shore
and gathered the drift wood
covered in salt
from a spent life at sea
it started small
an orb of white light
I walked away
to pick up and gather more pieces
let the flame build
and until I returned to my temporary sustenance
I had forgotten the effect the sea has on wood
no matter how long it sits
or how dry it becomes
salt seeps into the pores
and creates a lasting effect
when caught ablaze
I was brought back to a sea of green
And where the sea met the sky
A brilliant blue erupted
radiating and bold
and just the way her eyes had
pierced the darkness with their light
so did this fire
in the dead of my night
the frozen memories inside the ice
melted and came flowing out of me
the warmth of my fire
was extinguished
and now it was just
an arrogant brightness
one similar to the sun
and as far as I ran
and hard as I tried
her face shone bright
and shattered my efforts
like glass dropped on the hard wood
We are...
We are like that sentence.
We are not finished.