::08:09:08::

::: In the greys of distance :::

In the greys of distance and the
blues of mountains we as chimeras below
behold the vastness of No
a sight I’ve seen before
Cold and beautiful and just
right for tears.

Laying before garden deities
Our lonely attar and bare bones
of broken loves that can be no more
finely cut and brought low
is the return of Saturn and the farewell
to Selene’s constant twin

Numbering the constellations the lines
between the relations and redrawing
the shapes
we make them caricatures statues of us
until they resemble nothing or all

Numbering the vastness and the shards
but count me the many kinds of Yes; in Spring
which is love which is in everything
I know the colors of my years
and I recall summer’s dust

The ashes are brought for the wind to bear
and leave behind open hands
My gift flies back into my eyes
and with the remnants I redraw the lines
until there is no you or I
but only nods in a sea of stars

Written by: ~ sk doyle