A poem about a man who holds enough onto a memory for it to seem physical.
For each uncertainty
Leads me to you, broken down in embers
Above a hearth, deep in the twilight.
The scent of your petals
Bleed colors about
In the fragrance, in the elegance
Of your entwining form,
With a gait deep in the mire
Beneath your dancing feet.
It is but a memory deep in the mind
Of a man who has little more than stains
To be his kind
In the future,
For the past, left behind.
For all the snow beneath my tears, becomes more than snow.
I seem to be in love with a darkness
That holds a sliver of light.
A mere universe
With the boldest star.
A mere memory of shining crystal,
Of wet cheeks drowned in tears,
Of a form that trembles in fear,
Yet will not leave me here
With the memory of fallen rain
Against the worriment, against the stain.