Monday, November 23, 2015


I will miss this freedom; your singularity,
your black banner, your elusive mystery.
I will miss dreaming of you in red,
of you as an inviolable image,
                 my ever-flower.

I will stand in this metaphorical field,
      where the Poet waits for the Beloved.
I will gaze at you, my Star as I always have and I will be here,
     at the meeting of our minds;
this field of prose and poetry,
where you are at once mine and never mine.

Lawless one, darling mine,
none shall pluck you from my heart.

Let the night sky be my witness, let it
speak for me in its ageless voice;
       This one is a bystander
       this one waits
              for its other.

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