I wanted to write this love song

I wanted to write this love song 

That will last in music 

I unravelled all that I had written 

All that I was meaning to send 

All that I wrapped in silks and touches 

All that had remained wrapped in some solstice

All that had walked 

Hand in hand, together into that mist behind memory 

I wanted to go back and feed on those feelings 

Just to write about 

the wet walls behind my back

The exploding taste of the strawberry Popsicle

 that melted in mouth and lungs

Planting memories to rain that rivered the city and bodies 

The cats fell into invisible corners

The dogs had crowded the patio 

The city was washing its dirty corners 

And you were language to my new found limbs

The room must have held silence and clusters of being 

I still hunt words and gather the other side of lamentation and dry heartbeats 

the fissures open 

And I scatter to wet racing and rankling 

Never ever finding the words that would heap and fill it to an ever weeping lagoon 

Hidden love stories have a perpetual weight 

Time escapes enchaining it to appearances 

Seen and Unheard

That never makes it to a love song  

Words whirl and still dance 

devoid of shadows and presences

I wanted to write this love song

That will last in longing