I lived in stolen hours.
In time that was not supposed to be mine.
The gaps between seconds others missed
where the clock forgot to tick
and the world froze on it’s axis
the sun stopped its slow death
and I all I could hear was my own heartbeat
slow, measured, and timeless.
You are carrying a universe
I can see it glittering,
blazing beyond the foreign violet
tones of your sight
I can hear it in
your songs like howling wind,
like something that comes from the sky
I can see it as
you spread your arms and jump
a smile dancing on your pale face
your serene expression
as you come hurtling down toward the sea
that smashes your skull and fractures your heart
You thought your universe was carrying you
but you were carrying it
In my dreams
lions cry
golden tears
Into the Core
You are
in the center
of a lake with
ice so clear
you can see right
through it.
Into the Earth.
Above and underneath
red fish sparkle
like the drops of blood
that fall silently from
the corners of
your unseeing eyes.
Your skin pressed
against the water
listening to the moans
that ripple across
the surface as
though the universe
is crying.
And you are still
motionless
as all around you
ice becomes
a spiderweb
and the lake grabs
you and pulls
you into its core.
When I woke up I thought everything was gone. But then I realized everything could not be gone because I was still here.
I looked around. The light was bright and glaring like I was staring directly at the sun. It should have been painful. But it wasn’t.
Maybe everything was still there; I just couldn’t see it yet. Just like to darkness my eyes would soon adjust to the light. I stayed completely still. Waiting. Waiting for the outlines of mountain ranges to rise from the pale oceans, the bleached ground to appear underneath my feet, my hands to become visible.
How much time had gone by? Did time have a color? I was not sure anymore. Maybe it had had a sound. I listened for something, but even the sounds seemed white, the echoes colorless. I tried to move my hands, but I didn’t know where I was, where I began, or where I ended. It seemed I was everywhere and nowhere all at once.
Voices born from somewhere in the sky
rippling through
the ocean that used to be sand
in foreign echoes of sound
filling my bones with
smoke that used to be wind
until all the fragments that remind of me
swirl into the blank spaces
the atmosphere left behind
and above the planet that used to be Earth
stars shimmer that were already dead
when songs were still music.
I cannot stop thinking…
…atoms that were you
are different things
now…
…the fog hanging
still and grey above
the turning Earth…
…the light that falls
like golden rain
and breaks like glass…
…the bones of babies
when they come
crying and unseeing
with fists clenched
tightly around
the memories everyone
forgets…
…the stardust that
drifts down when
I am walking to
nowhere…
…in the wind whose
voice sounds like yours…
I can’t stop thinking…
…maybe I will hold you again…
