To
know torment, pain, more pain, and then some more,
Desperation,
the last gasp for breath and then the numbing nothing,
Spent,
in body and desire, nothing remains.
The
torment, no more an assailant, but sunk and coursing within your veins
It
begins taking root, through serpentine stirrings, so quiet, you won’t realize
Just
a glance reflected, the image of a smile, the warmth of gestures
That
never stopped, but grew incessantly.
Inciting,
with every cell on fire
Sometimes,
the washing down in cold rain
A
homecoming after several lives of wandering, it seems and is, for sure.
The
world was never so beautiful and tortuous before you.
There
is so much beauty; my silenced questions now tremble with joy to hear answers.
I‘d rather die now than live to see days that
are blank, days where I hear only noise, or even my echoes.