top of page
M. E.

you

despite the pain I still wish to re member You

piece your photograph back from the ashes I hold

in my cold hands

despite the sadness I linger within the margins

haunt you like a ghost, that is what I do

piecing the past together fragment by fragment

like the night illusion that by holding myself

I’ll piece my heart back together

I still find you in the ruins, I’m the other country

you don’t visit the distant war the old pain you know not of

the words you can’t read the language you can’t speak

and yet I write these feeble words so that I’ll be

there with you, here and there, my arm extended

like this open, white page, like a white pristine mouth

which hasn’t known speech or touch or pain or silence

there are words which are best understood when not uttered

and when I look at my hand and the pen I see myself on a screen

not missing missing you, not feeling touching you, not knowing knowing you

as you are blissfully buried into whiteness dis re membered through these black words

and when the screening stops I extend my hand in the distance and I feel

we are still somewhere and I’ll pin you down within this page

if you’ll let me

17 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

untitled

There was a moment When we were not Creeping back into warm holes of fantasy And breathing words to each other There were White, neat...

confluences

During the last years of his life, my granddad took up the hobby of painting. He would spend hours bent on a wooden desk, an expression...

mother-of-pearl

I wore my favourite black dress that night – I still remember it vividly if I try hard enough. I’d bought it at the fair one Sunday with...

Comments


bottom of page