I.
We whispered prayers into the corridors
while I spoke into your ribcage,
telling lies to our skeletons
to help you understand.
you said they loved
watching me wax poetic
while I dripped candlelight into your hands.
we watched the dust motes
cover our skin
while I taught you how to fly.
(you were always too afraid to fall
and too afraid to land).
II.
It wasn't lovesongs we sang;
it was half-forgotten hymns.
we never wanted to believe
but you said ghosts exist
without compassion,
and without sins.
I told the doctor
his medication clipped your wings.
III.
I fed you sweet words
tucked in between
candy-canes
and licori
GODS OR RAVENS - LES DIEUX OU LES CORBEAUX by Exnihilo-nihil, literature
Literature
GODS OR RAVENS - LES DIEUX OU LES CORBEAUX
She swallowed her words
in the darkness of a bare
prison of stone.
She summoned the lilies
in the air, heavy
with evening.
Whitened by foam
the edges of her dress
thorn torn, from digging with
her hands into the sky’s eternity,
the tomb that the sea
- the sea.. – refused her,
she hurried to the steep shores, alight
with golden blue, dawn-hued,
and the hollow of her heart
- vacuous ether between gods and ravens -
thwarted by suicide,
turned to the North;
a ship
the wind
and the Ocean at night.
French original version
Elle mâchait ses mots dans la pénombre d'une prison nue de pierre elle appelait les lys dans l'air long d
He wanted to be her everything, show her in stages
how it feels to tear worlds down, and watch
with no words, her shuddering gasps, in awe
his freezeframe of 'hallowed be thy name'
He wanted to pluck those damn starry tears from her eyes
in rainy clusters, and offer them up like quasar candy
that he could pop into her mouth on any given day in sizzling July
He wanted it all -
a taste of that street french filler space
that huddled between the 'here' and 'there' in her shadowy smile
to sit back and reflect in high wonderment,
this most glorious dance of her acceptance in all things colliding
to feel the slight sway in her searching
Most days I miss you in English
On the worst I miss you in French,
You are missing from me
I am lacking in you
a vital part
as essential as air
as bones
as blood,
A lost immune system
that can't keep illness at bay,
an amputation,
a lobotomy.
There is no single word
that covers a lack of you,
I miss you out of language
But French is the closest,
tu me manques.
I loved a girl – she smelled like August melancholy,
sweeter still,
she carried the scent of festival emotions,
tempered by the midnight flames
and fireflies' glow.
I loved a girl – her hair, the gentle hue of embers,
reflected dancing candlelight,
while in her eyes, as brown as mahogany,
I discovered tiny galaxies,
but most importantly – I saw my smile.
I loved a girl – I sensed her heartbeat,
playing to the rhythm of my breath.
Her every word,
imprinted tender cherry blossoms,
onto my soul.
I loved a girl – her lips tasted like morning air
cool against my heavy forehead,
her skin, softer than satin threads,