Words

they come crumbling off the pages

spilling more than what I can hold

forming puddles of reflected light

that splash out into the receding memory

of your flight.

leave no trace in the wind, nor in the

breath of the lover left to revel in his

all too heart wrenching, solitary existence

bereft of encircling arms and comforting hollows

of warm flesh, that could speak to him in even

the deepest sleep of the darkest nights.

come unasked for, like you. A pulse that quickens

with every premeditated typographic flourish of

your everyday babble, can only take me so far as the edge.

And then there's a slight push, that comes gently

from a gaze that flickers with the afterglow of electric

backlight, that I can't see but imagine, till it awakens

a response.

possess moments with startling vengeance, hiding

them from us in layers of glorious, seductive, infinitely

murky possibilities and we succumb like the

house of cards we are, destined to grovel

at their feet until we may utter them no more.