Fallen Silt

I'm crying against the brick wall,
by the aspen trees we used to sit between,
within the spring time of our love.
Cracked mortar scatters the floor
and reflects crystalline pure.

In the glow of refracted light,
my tears hit and fall
Pressing into kaleidoscopic mirrors.

We have breached passed the summer
and we watch our love fade like the colors of the leaves in the autumn air.
I just can't breathe the way I used to.

I would like to dig a hole
and crawl in.
sinking into this new womb
digging into my skin.
The dirt could find a temporary home in my pores.
I would like to use that warmth to keep my cold heart beating.

The home that I've dwelt, is cracked and torn
the bed that I've slept, is tattered and worn
It's a shell that I'll shed
It is not my true form.

I sit by the river where we used to stay.
Now the worms have gone to sleep,
and the ground is so cold.
the silt has fallen
to reveal the bottom of the bed.

This is our bed now.
Cold and moving
so slowly around the bend.

Oh Where is the well that can hold these tears?
These tears! That need a vessel to contain them?

These,
These days I prefer to have relationships from afar.
Throwing out a hook to connect our hearts
yet still standing so very far apart.

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