Tuesday, March 25, 2014

la guerdiya

only after sundown, right before sleep, i will be me. a mess of things, and remembering even the tiniest of everything. memories might fade, under the bitter cascade of pitfalls and waterfalls of our where-with-all and the never ending all descent into the alley of allegory transitory.

time is strange, like how it change into its changes and you are the strain that sought the rain that brought the strange hinge that hinges, this heart to yours; obscure. you were the cure and the tear that tore open this fissure of emotion. the passion and the impassion, that it brought in calculated algorithmic seismic tremors of fervor on the plains of the forgotten. this was the fever, the initial seizure that seizes on unflinching, clenching deep in taut and i, in thought brought that inevitable wrought to rot. and so, i saw you in my sleep, your body drowning in the deep trying to keep secrets you could not keep. i thought i heard a plane crashing and the sea waves crashing, but it was only then i heard the sound of your passion snapping.

you still cross my mind from time to time. in the lost last continents of time at the deep end of depend. i still cross your name in my mind and for long i would not mind with an unsure imaginary pen. you still instil the still echoes of still imagining pictures of my imagine. you, i still imagine with your air without care and the answers you gave to question existential despair. you were there still with the smile you did not smile, etching through daubs of paint on canvases made of pain for miles and miles. after all, even forever forevermore you were there keeping score on the long listless lore of myths and cryptic lifts on long listless lips. at times, i know nowhere; you are. that you know, where you are. knowing that you are, everywhere where we are. where we were, yesterday that days of yesteryear.

i still stand guard at la guardia, en guard; on guard nova secluria. to guard the past and the future that might come to pass and break free the solemn rememberings that have yet come to past. i still wait, for the weight to lift slowly gently over this shoulders that burdens this cinders to clear. i still stand guard, with a bouquet of tears and the smear of my fears that leeches through, right across the creases of forgotten kisses, that long-awaited avenue. that day, came dismay that was last may came maybe led me astray for so long among the waiting uncertain. and it is certain, that certain is for certain that i should have said that word unmentioned. you speak of immortality, and i have immortalized you in words mentioned.

i hated airports ever since.

1 Comments:

Anonymous OutofControl infatuated

You shouldn't hate airports. It's a beautiful place for wanderers and dreamers.

Sunday, April 27, 2014 1:39:00 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home