You wrapped your wings against my soul,
calmly cascaded tears into eternal waters,
where I sat in solitude, waiting ephemerally,
for those hours of lost comfort once again.
How long ago did sleep become such an end?
Those hopeful moments that pass
through our hands as sweeping seconds,
which stand as monuments to who we were
In stone. I never saw your heart bleed,
but felt each weeping grain remain
and who could have seen such blame
that made the molecules of our emotions?
Passion placed between the powers of us,
in those headstone requiems.
Granite wake and I wait for you forever –
eternal – as you cry for more than fleeting storms.
Even then we still feel alive and somehow out of turn,
drowning in existence barren fields,
the death of all we saw within our worlds.
Time passes, but you stand guard,
the angel of our dreamscapes wants.
Where everlasting, our hands cannot touch
and souls cannot dissipate between galaxies.
Galactic grace of tumbling comets,
never to kiss or yearningly embrace.
Lovers trapped before devotion,
but lovers forever more…
Poem © Phen Weston 2015