Should I be Pale again for You

And should I be pale for you as I look out at stars,
I wonder if you see them too and if this night brings
the memories to the fore, of you and me, of us and them,
the who of who we were and what we did become.

Is your glass still filled or is it left like mine
standing on the shelf, where the ormolu clock
never strikes the hour, just stays fixed, the gilt
imbued with the unsettling dust of what remains
and always will, lost in the summertime of vintage swills.

Should my love, that I be as pale as fixed alabaster,
fighting back the curls of our driftwood collecting days,
here where the stone is aged and the ground saturated,
I would be pale a million days, if time were not so relentless.

Is the sky as deep a black as the one I see, I peeked
there were no stars that night, now a million, trillion holes
have opened up in the universe of us, I could be yours
as pale as the day that I first wound my arms through yours,

I had the smile, the suppleness of that sweet indentation,
the flowers strewn in the hurricane of table top dramas
and the door by the back porch with the wellington boots,
caked in the mud, washed by the salt and silt, my love
I would be as pale as the pearl sky, scented by the lavender
the sprig you picked and the one I kept until the tide came
and when I held it in my hand it evaporated into orbs of nothing,

Those stars you see my love, are the tears I shed for us.






Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 838 times
Written on 2014-02-09 at 18:18

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sagi
such a rush of words! a strong dosage of imagery and poetic marvel left me breathless! A beautiful ,beautiful poem!
2014-02-10


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Long lines become you. This is quite nice.
2014-02-10


Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
The level of writing and the degree of poetic detail which
you are able to manifest is often a kind of literary
tour de force while the overall effect of the conjured
fields of imagery impart visceral, emotional
tidal geographies of lives having been lived intensely
together like burning novae which become reduced
by their inherent intensity to cinder/jewelled reflections
upon Memory's magic mirrors...
2014-02-09


F.i.in.e Moods The PoetBay support member heart!
A silent sigh and wish for things to be back to a time that is no longer is the sense I pick up from this beautifully written (as is your norm and undeniable talent) poem. I of course enjoyed all of it, but this bit in particular struck me : ''now a million, trillion holes have opened up in the universe of us'' ... that conjures so many thoughts and feelings for me. Just excellent all around.
2014-02-09