Daring and brilliant- I saw her, an image of
conjured humility, I blame my youthful stupidity-
On the loss of my favorite one, my love-
Undercover wanderer, treading skyline, heading yonder-
The one I could not compare to anyone.
Darling fox that sneaks through the brush-
And chews on the remains of the prey it has caught-
Don’t betray me, don’t pay me to be your liar-
Your God on earth and friar; I took so much time out-
For this thing we had, the blazing trail of love;
I held her higher than my Christmas wreath-
Now she sleeps underneath.
It is funny how things once touted can become so sour-
I picked up many weeds until I unveiled the flower-
But it had threads of thorns weaved round its leave, its color-
Fragmented, agitated-not a flower to keep;
This was like the girl you see.
I threw away all the weeds surrounding my bed-stand-
And threw the flower over my sheets, and it stained them-
I tucked it gently under my bed-
It sleeps underneath.
I was scared there was nothing more for me,
I was afraid of the bitter loneliness and death,
That comes with a loss so hard and painful;
To let go was like a traveling show, ridiculous-
I held my heart in check and tried regardless-
In me was a crushed red streak of love, and hope-
Peace, serenity, in the cavity of my heart lie my enemies,
And she sleeps underneath.
I once laid awake and contemplated this complex fate-
I have held a gun to my brain, I have tried on many garments-
To disguise my body as it is wrangled, and lame-
I do not walk the streets alone for shame-
There is no one to rightly blame; she or he or I-
All I know is to let go is priceless, but my heart-
It is filled with vices, old devices of love and of hate-
I fear I can not let go completely, so I neatly rearrange,
The furniture to persuade myself she is still there;
I put a light on next to the empty chair.
And climb into bed, into dreams;
Nothing is as it seems to me-
She walks in, an apparition far more haunting than the deceased,
And comes to the bed.
She sleeps underneath.