Tuesday, December 29, 2015

French Twist

Silent Film                            12/29/2015



Strange, surreal,
Dark, and beautiful
Suspended in the air
Like a silent film. 

Nothing is ever real
And nothing is ever perfect
Not without loss
And not without pain. 

It hurt me then
But only with time
Do I understand
That tears cleanse
And agony heals.  

I have risen
From the ashes
But not by my hands
As I fumble in the dark
And wrestle against myself.

The night was long
But even blackness
Can shine
Contrasted against a single spark
Burning in my brain. 

I love it all
And embrace every nuance
Even though it hurts
I endure. 

At every café
And in every dream
Lost in endless shades of gray
Perfection lives.

It is all beautiful
But we would never know
If we didn’t lose it
Foolishly wasted
And numb.

Numbers, letters
Symbols and graphs
All given over  
To black and white. 

Blood, ebbs and flows
Easing through my body
As I sit and think
Circulating like metaphors
In my dreams. 

Steaming coffee
Swirls around her memory
Black and brown
Frothy and white. 

Now I can feel it
As I drift into whimsy
Living a beautiful life
For as long as I can. 

I shall walk in roses
And think of them
A long lost memory
Perfect and free.  

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