Sunday, January 17, 2016

Conversations

Conversations
Quiet, muddled, befuddled
Never reaching a conclusion
Endless, meandering, circumambulating
Tiresome in their childish repetitions.
Conversations
Are never clear
They never come to me
Like they do in my dreams
Lucid, transparent
With you before me
Gathering my words in your arms
Slowly, letter by letter
A game of scrabble only we can play
A puzzle formed block by block
Till I finally find the right words to say
They never come to me
Like they do in my dreams.
Clear, precise and charming
Completely disarming
With you on the other side.
It never happens that way.
It never will.

Exhausted

I wish to be exhausted
Too tired to breathe
Walking on broken bones
Staggering to bed
Empty of thoughts, feelings and you
So I work myself through
 pains last flashpoint
Break all memories' joints
Forget the task of remembering
Build a life of dismembering
Events, words, every trace
Of the shadowy curves of your face
The tinkling bells of your laughter
That ignite hope in a dangerously flammable heart
I fight the last fires that burn in the infinite dark
I wish to be tired, to sleep
Like I slept in your arms
Quietly breathing in life
With all its minutes and memories
Complete and half-done
When I could lift my eyes and touch the stars in your dreams
I wish to be exhausted of these