Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Wednesday, January 25, 2023

25.1.23

I kept your dress that really did me in
Because of how it fell around your knees,
A flutter that it whispered in your spin,
The swishing sound it sang with every breeze—

I kept the pattern, glowing out of night
Against the tow'ring cave walls of the church,
A mock engraving richly flowing bright,
To strike me with a sickly stomach lurch.

I kept the needle strung along the thread
To tie me back from freely falling through
A stark abyss that opened in my head;
The helplessness of never loving you.

The dress now gone, not kept at all,
The thread now snapped, I freely fall.

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