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Description
Your Silence

Sometimes in your silence
I still see our other country
Bridged from here by an arc of coloured light on dark
Its colours visible by their improbability
As faint but rejoicing in their incongruence
As your continued presence in my heart

Sometimes in your silence
I think of the storm that brought you to my shore
I hear the surf’s hiss, crash and break
Each wave ending countless journeys after yours
Each wave reminding me of the void you left
And how meaningless our encounter should have been

I see the shells by which you measured your size
And sank your ship of full-sized human splendour
Into my tiny Miranda for me a proud, towering Caliban
The swash that knocked you helpless to the floor
The backwash that could have taken you away
And in your drowning left me much poorer but at peace

Instead I feel time expand into the slow moving thrill
Of your impossible existence and the impossibility of your escape
The age it takes for you to distance yourself
And then entranced and unhurried, I scoop you up sodden,
An infinite human treasure undrowned, writhing in fear
A mille-feuille of kicking petticoats as I finger out each grain of sand

The world had spun for a young man at last in space,
The best day possible: an easy victim, money and a camera,
And now a human doll promising endless games,
Comforting me as I took you into the nightmare of my past,
Exposing you to dangerous ghosts,
Handling you in ways you said you liked and now neither of us alone.

Sometimes in your silence
I visit these places again, the gravestones of lost souls
That were once both my friends and mortal enemies,
Vampires from my past sucking the life from my present,
I should have let them rest
I should have left you on the beach

Sometimes in your silence
I see the beach my own ghost walks
Endlessly searching, hoping he may find you again
And holding you to his heart,
This time he promises himself he will not let you go
But let you go he must.

(c) Chesya 2007

Description
Your Silence

Sometimes in your silence
I still see our other country
Bridged from here by an arc of coloured light on dark
Its colours visible by their improbability
As faint but rejoicing in their incongruence
As your continued presence in my heart

Sometimes in your silence
I think of the storm that brought you to my shore
I hear the surf’s hiss, crash and break
Each wave ending countless journeys after yours
Each wave reminding me of the void you left
And how meaningless our encounter should have been

I see the shells by which you measured your size
And sank your ship of full-sized human splendour
Into my tiny Miranda for me a proud, towering Caliban
The swash that knocked you helpless to the floor
The backwash that could have taken you away
And in your drowning left me much poorer but at peace

Instead I feel time expand into the slow moving thrill
Of your impossible existence and the impossibility of your escape
The age it takes for you to distance yourself
And then entranced and unhurried, I scoop you up sodden,
An infinite human treasure undrowned, writhing in fear
A mille-feuille of kicking petticoats as I finger out each grain of sand

The world had spun for a young man at last in space,
The best day possible: an easy victim, money and a camera,
And now a human doll promising endless games,
Comforting me as I took you into the nightmare of my past,
Exposing you to dangerous ghosts,
Handling you in ways you said you liked and now neither of us alone.

Sometimes in your silence
I visit these places again, the gravestones of lost souls
That were once both my friends and mortal enemies,
Vampires from my past sucking the life from my present,
I should have let them rest
I should have left you on the beach

Sometimes in your silence
I see the beach my own ghost walks
Endlessly searching, hoping he may find you again
And holding you to his heart,
This time he promises himself he will not let you go
But let you go he must.

(c) Chesya 2007