Thursday, April 19, 2012

ode to the girl in somber

 I wasn't going to post this. It's a first draft.
But today would have been Raven's 20th birthday. This is my present. It's all I can give. 


You never looked at me without looking deeply.
Piercing through me, your eyes made a beeline for my heart,
And there- you found something that belonged to you.

Passing notes and pictures back and forth
While the preacherman soliloquized about hope,
We found it, buried among ferns and thorns.

“Softly,” you said, “don’t break my consentration”,
But I barreled through your brain on awkward stilts
Just to press my lips to your consciousness.
I call this place home.

I’ve never eaten ice cream with a fork.
I have never attacked it, forced it to bleed before
Letting it drip through my lips like pearls of butterscotch.
You were a huntress.

I was far away the day you set sail,
Singing noisily, breathing through your nose,
Holding flowers to lay at your gravestone.
I would have stayed and sang with you.

Lately, every breath has a silver lining,
And this frigid winter may be ending
But I find no solace in this.
Winter is where I have made my home
And I have never ventured into spring.
You were my first reason.


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