Painting Haunted Faces

09 Nov
A ghost sits beside me in
crisp green air – a brisk
memory that stays there.For as long as I remember.
It is the best place to keep her.
Her face has changed throughout the years.
Colors and voices multiple and unidentifiable
in time, but always recognized by her song
to me. Mercy. They are the same tune.

The song is of pain and ecstasy.
Embrace a waking dream. Of soft
sand that drapes the shores and
forgets nothing of worth. And
evermore asks of its worth.

Shall I go? Will
it dull the scars?
My forever friends.

As waves break the bond of
holding gazes and locked hands
filled with dreams. I smile in
familiar phrases.

Familiar with lost. Please, take my heart
and help me recognize the face of found.
What is she named? How will I know
how to greet her when I shake her hand?
Will she fit in a locket?

And ever still the head-song trills a beautiful
legato. A melodious memory of my ghost. My
only friend who belongs here – in crisp green air
where it hurts a little less than yesterday. Yesterday
she was real.

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Posted by on November 9, 2011 in POETRY: Self portrait


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