You sit outside and
take long drags,
letting plumes of smoke escape you,
scenting the air with spice
that even autumn cannot overwhelm.

You used to say
"I love you",
like you were singing a hymn,
softly but proudly;
I admitted my uncertainty
like I was committing a sin,
shameful and afraid.
Your heart never beat
in quite the same pattern,
after my confessions.

Breathless in the sun-drenched
afternoon of summertime,
you stormed my heart like winter:
unrelenting, unapologetic.
"I won't love you anymore,"
offered up as your goodbye,
and I heard your heartbeat
for the last time.

The moon illuminates you
in a way I never could,
rolling over your eyes,
your skin, your bones.
"I wish you could see the stars,"
you whisper in the darkness,
but I know you're not
speaking to me.

I sit inside and
stare at telephone wires,
envious in realizing that
no matter where they are,
they can find their way to you.




I wrote this not only as a REsponse to Marke's beautiful photograph, but also because of Riana6's REmark on it ("telephone poles remind me of someone i used to love..."). Her REmark kept playing over in my head, until this came out. I had to play around with the order of the stanzas, but I think this version sounds just about right.
<3C