Sunday, February 3, 2013

In Secret

Art by Gianni de Conno

The last time we met,
You brought me your dream—
A life wish thrust into the
Vortex of Finitude.

And while you spoke, you flamed,
Violet tongues billowing
Through glassless windows,
Sparking their alchemy sky-high.

No longer were your words
Superficial or intellectualized.
No longer was your voice
Timid or unheard.

From your lips shone
Constellations of stars.
From your eyes keened
Recrudescent echoes.

The well of impotence runs dry,
I said.

You said,
Ah, yes! That’s so.

We glared at the vivid blue of
The air encaving You and Me.

We weighed our words
As if they were wisdoms of old.

We scattered the ghosts:
Ashes to blaze!
Dust to gold!