For long lost

Finally,
         you spoke the words I've needed,
gave proper meaning
to the
language of dreams,
and I, for once, was
                             speechless, unable to voice the emotion
                                even

as

my mind,
propelled by thoughts exposed,
flew straight down to desire's cellar door,
 locked for years and years.

Volumes, written, unwritten,
 lay just past a closed past but
I stand
  so close, safe now, beneath
                                         the house of lies
                                                               I'd built my life in, carrying one small
                                                                                                                 seed, a token of hope, and there's somehow
    promise of growth,
dark as it is
in

the depths.

With a match struck to aid the hint
                                                      of moonlight offering, wiggling
                                                                         through slats, never filled in,
                                                                                                         I can see well enough.

                                                                                                         It's as
                                                                                                            simple as the turn.  The sphere remains.

I come for long
lost heart of flesh.

The Sunday Whirl
Write at the Merge