Free Verse # 418 (my poem comes nearest to her)

Her fragrance
is a knife
held to my neck,
however I move
I am gone…

~

Her silence weakened me
and I hated it until I learned
it was the only force capable
of revealing me to my bones,
shaking open my truth
on the altar of the world.

~

Let us kiss
until nothing of us remains
except the light
of the first star

~

Rain falling at dawn,
I am awake
writing shattered notes
to an unknown lover

~

I am waiting for you
on the other side of silence,
covered in dew
and holding out
the scarlet fire of my heart.

~

Aux moments silencieux
je retrouve mon destin,
fleur couleur du vent,
fraicheur de l’aube,
les yeux de mon bien-aimée
lumière du monde.

~

My poem is a painting
in which her soul is blushing;
my poem is an attempt
to touch her light
with shivering fingers
and an aching soul;
my poem comes nearest to her
when it is silent.

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