found among the foliage of forgotten poems

i use to be a poet now i’m nothing in between

the sheets are soiled from bodies coiled

an intimacy i could only share with you

 

faces look out their windows as i walk by

solitary faces watching a solitary figure

my soul knows that beyond the clouds

there is no universe

all meaning is right here, right now

the taste of salt on your skin

but i could only watch you leave

emptying rooms of all meaning

 

and the moonlight lights the corners of

          vacant sheets

even the devil wouldn’t wish someone

          so much pain

world on fire and i conspire to just sit here

          and watch it burn

 

a james blunt song brings forth tears

but the words are just words

and life was your skin on mine

evidence of the divine

something understood without the mind

collect calls are not a crime

but i can’t even collect myself

 

candles burn and i in turn extinguish

          with their last flames

the movie always ends with one last empty frame

 

***