pa·pier-mâ·ché

When i put forth the greatest of effort and try

then left all forlorn

with my why?

y-y-why?

 

When my eyes

see your eyes

and the eye lashes back

 

the honesty says

look away, now

love, look away

 

How I feel all alone

and your loneliness

too

 

i wish for your love

though there’s nothing to

do

 

i hate all my wishing

i hate all my hating

hate all my feelings

this way and that

 

hating you

hating me

 

and then

get quiet

all turn

to stone

 

Then come dark clouds, the fifty thousand dark shades

the long and dark nights, the endless dark days

 

my ears start to bleed

my sight starts to fail

in exchange for choice words 

my Latin

your Greek

 

choice merciless words

me to you to me speak

 

The storm in my head wants what happened, unreal

the turning over, my hands, what got stolen, not to steal

 

i stole from you steal from

away from us

now

 

the wall between rooms

made of pa·pier-mâ·ché some

how

 

How I would pull all apart! all the glue and the pulp

and i know you would, too! i swear this is

true

 

i will

Send out my linens now, white flags on the line

If only to know you were part, my design

 

i will

unshape the monsters, tie them with twine

with hair if i have to, to keep unrefined

all the hatred between us

the base

solid kind 

 

Above which we once drew our cottons, with care 

before they got soaked in all our red sea, phantasm glare

 

Imageunmoored

in the midnight dead sky

freshly fallen

lost love

 

Instead i am left to wonder what was

with this broken heart, because and because

 

surrounded by white flags

and my 

why why?

why whys

 

the tears

the wood floor

now dries

 

Soon to burn

in the hearth of my heart

down below

 

Knowing exactly

what i never wanted 

to know

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to those who are true and not afraid

Yes, this is all i can tell you. we loved one another for a very long time, okay. the flowers you braided in my hair i then pressed close to my heart, petal by petal, colors bleeding into my bloodstream, then out my pores and touching you touching me.

you carried me some times, part of the way. this was my path in yours. we could fight it, or we could like it. Or we could try to like it or love one another and our selves through it, embrace it, take it, appreciate it, hold it in our hands and hold it up to the light, let it reflect in the light. Absorb the light and take notice of the shadows also where they recessed. how they came over and dampened the heat of the white light, softened the potency…

The lines in our skins, the patterns, the spirals, the curve that our eyes traced and followed, lost and found, dipped into and cooled, rose out and ascended with our spirits to the open air. The boys who showed love all the time on front street. some curious wondering. most admiring. nice and sweet. strangers and how we meet.  and we made an organic whole. the wholeness we saw, they saw and reflected back to us. well that would bring on smiles. that would last, remember? for a little while at least.

we were really of the same kind, the same blood. This would only matter if we cared to come in line and believe in it, the world, in us, our family, in self, our selves. This seemed to me, the youngest, another chance for that to die for kind of attention. Received when i was not wanting or needing something impossible for you to give. Because this is true. That we are our most formidable challenges. This i would risk it all on. The whole house I do not own. The health i still possess, on a youth level. A phsyiological level.

The psychology is only so prominent as our experiences. The heavy traumas are fresh and remembered in my daily life, i cannot help how they run. They run sometimes close to the surface like salmon running home. The subtle ones are deep running, like they do not move at all, my eyes might suggest. Nothing going on down there, just peaceful easy subcurrent substorm lethargy of egg guarding and backward pull of crayfish tailspins. Yes, these are subdued or so seem. But you and I we have together swum the waters from top to tail. We have gone with, against, and stubbornly for the sake of love and love lost… i can say embedded in my heart, i often most did so unremitting and unfashionable. not so pretty, and without fail.

Well at our best we were grace. Full of grace. Inspired by our mothers. Mom, i love the gift she gave me in grace.  They had more to give, our moms, they could now but they refuse to part with their wisdom. Why? Were the transgressions of our youth so devastating to cause the divide? To deny us these wonderful blessings? Failure to give with the not knowing of outcome or consequence or even the course of the ride through to the outcome.  We have lost their expectations.  We are no longer predictable in any way.

Who will ever come to familiarity with the methods of survival in a relationship which manifested seven years of sincere absence? Who will not bleed by this Conscious impact? Who will feel the violence of this horrible Truth through omission? Rendered what was once a great and savory fullness of love and life and laughter and tears, to some empty background behind form, some staged back blender. The efforts to blend are lost even, as may be the efforts toward translation, communication so long lost. Why?

We long ago stopped asking …

we long ago lost the towns that sheltered us, the homes receding, the wood thinning, the blankets smothering, the smiles insincere, the feeling when the one who made you cannot forgive you. Digging subconsciously. Mining for the passion that once sustained the momentum you all started, when you contribute to creation.

Long before february first, nineteen seventy-three… even before my brother was born… before june, nineteen seventy….   before my love she came to be, before  may…. What happened to that love? All we feel today… is the

shy light

shy light, 2011 by Katya

absence.