Last Words

I returned your ring
but kept my vows,
and you did not return,
so now,
I bury letters,
long
and sonnets, parsed
in tomb of what I knew
         of love.
Bones, of which,
dry as the flesh I gave,
imprison past.
I lay to rest
specious sinew,
sepulcher purist spores
and garnish grave
with primrose,
        pomegranate-
                    all
I ever was or gave.
Symbol of all I lost.

To the gods of fable,
I yield both my power
and my weakness,
take back wings.

We drank, together,
poison of denial,
and you slowly drifted off.
Departed, darling,
I became.
So, rest, beloved.
Close eyes
that once imagined
glow of truth.
Flutter, soft,
filmy lids
and cloak
the sparkled lens.
I kiss you
one more time,
         kiss
your swollen lips
  of promise.
While you stare
blindly
     into darkness,
      I rise.
Verbosity of verse
     reverberates,
sobbing wild,
rocking vault
  of marrow
         as I ascend,
but you are deaf,
and I am entering
silence.
Adorned spotless,
my skirt billows
as I mount,
bright as Venus,
break through cruel
                       curve
of opalescence,
shatter
show.
Moon lights course.
Perished,
you can not pursue.
I wield war
               and birth
               and I forgive.

The Sunday Whirl