Sketches of the Falling Away…
Words are thin.
Don’t paper me at midnight when the
truth is you’re leaving.
Don’t start a fight to make the leaving
right.
Keep me in your eyes instead, cunning,
murky, devoted. Everywhere your eyes land
I will be the hue of desire, the fabric in your
grasping hand. You wear me and no change of
season will have you putting me down. Even as you leave, to travel,
to find what I was not,
you take me with you.
__________
These are the things that are falling away.
The quickness in our pulses, the sympathy of our
eyes for each other, dances without obvious music.
This is my skin, continuous with only itself.
In my room, a box of stillness and furniture
that knew you.
And a breath comes like the turning
of a motor with the oil all burned off.
There’s no way the next one could be better.
–Wren Tuatha
Wren,
Just wanted you to know not much poetry touches me (might be that I don’t read enough?) BUT this did. Recently split up with someone I thought was going to be around a while, your words here pretty much speak for me as well. I do hope to read more of your thoughts.
Sincerely,
Lisa
Thanks, Lisa. A writer hopes to connect, so I appreciate hearing that I have.
I have several older relationship poems ready to post for the next week or two, between other posts. So keep visiting!
Also, for poetry readers, there’s a category to the right called “Poetry” you can click to get all my posts I tag that way.
I’ve received nice positive feedback on the poetry. Nice to know I’m not boring too many readers with my angst!