The coffee was cold.
some fugitive winter had cheated time,
used its escapade to make loneliness
more bitter than raw artichokes,
it would pour a spoonful in my cup.. . .
I sipped instead of made.
A wooden minute burns warm,
it chokes dense smoke of waiting;
I had preferred to sit
lost in tinny hours of regret…
Were you here; we´d be drinking
from the same mug, same side of the rim.
We used to.
I´d savor the secrets of your heart,
fathom your next move;
you knew all of mine…
The afternoon looks gloomy;
the mottled sky shines cerulean and ivory.
I remember you used to call these moments
–a time for philosophy-
You would laugh that rich cackle of yours;
The cloudscape numb with awe.
Your smooth fingers crisscrossed behind my neck;
Murmurs of your cranberry lips hushed on sweetened
kisses…
These days of broken-hearted dreams I miss you so much;
my systolic rhythm has its tempo in disarray…
I thought salt and pepper in my hair meant wisdom...
It did not...
I´m out of sighs. I feel choiceless. The spell of this place lost its magic;
its incantations cannot summon you back;
I wish they could. Your love was an indispensable ingredient.
Your image remained suspended beneath glassy waters;
history whispered our good-byes too long ago…
Crepuscular winds sing detachment in cinnamon scent;
elegy of poet-less muses.
Inkless, lonely quills wither in unwritten poesy;
a chiaroscuro palette; richness of primaries dried and
hardened like old toneless muscles…
This routine boredom impaled in solitude weighs a ton.
It weaves streaks of lamenting nights; crushes will and smothers
reasons to smile.
Memories are capricious runaways; occasional visitors.
Never stay over despite free lodging; not enough warmth
to keep them cozy, entertained…
Hooters prey on them: homeless rodents cringed under indigo velvet robe;
punctured with shiny freckles of infinity…
Absconded embers of involuntary forgetfulness…
Copyright ©MystiqueWizzard®2012
Copyright ©Alberto J. Alvarez G.® 2012
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