I wrote this poem on Wednesday when this photo I took the same day inspired me.
Your sweat and the last refrain of melody and the closing thorn,
It pierced my heart before I’d even known
How to spell out your amour.
In these moments where I curse and scrawl your words over and again,
True realisation is my enemy and enmity
Swells within me, a bitter
Leftover of our poison,
A poison for shelling our mind, enriching our souls.
We know better –
Well, you have your moments of standing by the window – and
Trilling the forlorn tune
(I remember you passed it to me,
Via piano keys
The day you realised
I only play strings)
I’ve kept my mind from the countermelody:
I hum that tune to myself sometimes.
We plucked youth from out of each others hands;
Quite why I didn’t expect the thorns
Ploughed from regret
Nobody factored but you, with your silent
Hands. Bled, I did, and cried as we signed ourselves
Away. Into a word neither
Admitted was our harmony bed.
Your sweat and the last refrain,
And I cut my thorn-decked flesh,
Eyeing your hesitance, knife-point.
No wonder salt lies on the scared.