Hollow empty gourds hang
emotionless, empty
with holes cut through to expose
their dark vacancy
adorning barren trees
devoid of life
shivering in the frigid night air
as their furlong song echos
down the long chamber of my heart.
~
Because you are not here.
~
I close my eyes and hear your voice singing
your song through my seasons
pronouncing each one
with clarity and grace.
~
I feel your touch
your caress
your breath on my skin
molding me,
owning me,
dancing rhythmically through my brain
Until I open my eyes
and you cease to be.
~
I die a little more
and a little more
until I just can't bear it!
~
The sharp edge of night
draws ever near
shining it's cold hard glare
piercing into my eyes
blinding me from what was
and what could be
until all I can see is the now-
the greedy, hungry now!
O night! Devour me!
Tear the sun from the sky
and throw the stars into the sea!
And bury me where you buried my love!
Leave me nothing but dry bones;
barren earth and clay
and the sorrow of hollow gourds
hanging from a dead tree.
