journeys
a cento for lisa
we duck and we amble and
minds all revolve around
the age of loneliness, where
people post a secret to a stranger
the path ahead split
open, the way memory clings.
on thunderous nights
you appeared: glory days.
the character of my ardour.
graves await us both
if we're unchanged. words
woven as you needed to be free.
remind me of the way
you see your world
while you find your way in it.
i think often of the cut -
one leaning shaft of sunlight,
a quick sip of air.
there are vices under our skin, those
in secret; that grip from within:
this joy. this joy, unspent –
a mist i can't quite remember.
wordless - you on your way -
we close our eyes and dream
of all that is pretty and lovely
and get it wrong.
what would i not do for you, my sweet one?
sometimes you pray for growth, and instead
you get bored. i let so many things pass me by.
here comes our hope. reborn,
don’t forget these moments.
there is talk of a kingdom all around us,
elusive and slippery as glass.
it's all I have left of you,
you who barely know me.
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