Arébella
Hear the age in me, the prophetic voice
Of one too scant of time to utter all.
Alice Brown (The Immortal Witnesses, 1893)
there's music in the background
violins quietly rendering speech
touching every thought
that's emanating within the aura
of breath
regret seems languished
salivated beneath the sun
awoken to the sea's cry
I had written an effigy
in a tattered book
covered in dust that
sat in the tomb
of my heart
felt you
between the pages within
each tear that you cried
it was more than just the touch
more than the look of elegance
that I once felt
vibrating through your bosom
I could feel more than your eyes
on my heart loving me as I loved
you
the moon disappeared beyond the field
each tear seemed a definition of
something that didn't feel real
I can still see you standing
atop the hill that carried you away
estranged from pure happiness
that existed in the boundary
of us
I weeped in the evening
lethargic anecdote of self-doubt
compulsory reflection of anguish
"I have loved and lost..."
I feel as if I am without
the soul you gave me
from the gentle kiss
succulent and tame
consumed within my eyes
"I had lost my love..."
certainty of time held in one moment
an eternity till the last breath
