Thursday, October 23, 2014

Ramparts of you II

I weep now,
your spell lay broken
lapping at my feet
stinging like the salt of the ocean

A wall, 
you were the wall, my wall
You loomed vast and unscaleable;
        my audience, 
        my subject, 
        my friend.

I laid a hand on your cheek,
At a touch, 
         you crumbled;
         Love is your undoing
         Love that isn't mine
         Love ungraspable by me.

So I stood upon this ruin,
The ramparts I built
My shelter from you, now a skeleton
A relic of old; 

The irony of this poem is not lost on me. Instead, I am slightly relieved by it.
Part I

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