well tell


well, tell
to my ear,
speak in a weak refrain
more for more
to more and more
and linger
over those words
while that anger sits
just past the point
where you could reach it.

well, tell
a quiet moment
or perhaps i stop listening –
take or take
away my senses.
spilled on the world,
an age that lasts
less than a second,
so quickly turns you old
with less than memory
describing your history

well, tell
or out goes the water
i watched a river change
i smelled the fire you set
from the edge of my bed
i heard the screams of your lions
before the fall of Rome
intoxicated moron
i pushed you down the stairs
in my dreams you could fly

well, tell
to my ear
i want to feel your breathing
say a word that soldiers fear
say nothing at all
but let me feel you are there
i wait in cold moonlight
through a night of cold solicitude
but feel the whole world has suddenly
lost the incredible weight
of your recent attendance





(Eventually, people vanish in one way or another. Truly, you don’t notice when a lot of them do. But some snap off bits of the world to take with them when they go.)


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