katharsis
Last night when we spoke
calloused words on tender tongues
I took my first breath of this summer.
Born again from tired flesh
in the hour of naked admission
that exists between moon and sun.
You, restful witness
of a futile battle fought in a lover's mind.
You, patient bystander
at the exhumation of dust-covered belongings
buried deep beneath the strata of time.
I look through relics of yesterdays
that have been
and will remain in situ.
In the throes of my catharsis
l fear for that which I stand to lose,
which we stand to lose.
But I will fight for that
which we stand to gain for
that which remains in its aftermath
is yours to take
love.
calloused words on tender tongues
I took my first breath of this summer.
Born again from tired flesh
in the hour of naked admission
that exists between moon and sun.
You, restful witness
of a futile battle fought in a lover's mind.
You, patient bystander
at the exhumation of dust-covered belongings
buried deep beneath the strata of time.
I look through relics of yesterdays
that have been
and will remain in situ.
In the throes of my catharsis
l fear for that which I stand to lose,
which we stand to lose.
But I will fight for that
which we stand to gain for
that which remains in its aftermath
is yours to take
love.