let my silence speak for me. let my unspoken words reverberate through the boundless space that hugs us. ask me not what my thoughts are, for i need the stillness to suppress the furious agitation curdling from the wellsprings of my desperation.
ask me not what my thoughts are --- i am made mute by the virtue of decision. find comfort in the fact that i do not allow my restless words to infiltrate the rickety barriers surrounding your indecisiveness. and so, in feigned quietude, i shall watch you walk away, back to the path you chose to take at the beginning of your journey.
ask me not what my thoughts are --- let the uncontrollable shaking of my body as you attempt to cushion the tremors tell you about my anguish. let my traitorous tears narrate to you the dull ache i feel as i recognize the face of loss.
ask me not what my thoughts are --- let the creases on my face reveal to you my fears. allow the little wrinkles at the edges of my sad smile convey my apprehensions and worries as to how the first few weeks, months without you would be for me. let the pleats on my brows as i struggle to hold the dam up declare my dread of not seeing you again.
ask me not what my thoughts are --- the glint in my eyes describe the joy i feel as i spend the remaining hours with you. don't ask me "what's with that look?" whenever you catch me staring at you, for i am merely etching a vivid memory of you, to hold ever so dear whenever i feel the pangs of longing. just as i deeply breathe in the scent of your shirts that you let me wear; i try to have my fill by memorizing every intricate detail, drinking down to the last drop so i wouldn't feel parched and lacking. the countdown has long begun.
ask me not what my thoughts are --- permit my hands to talk to you about holding on. my firm grasps articulate my reluctance to let go. feel that my tight embraces mean more than wanting to be physically entwined to you; it is my way of allowing my heart to speak directly to yours in the hushed tones of the soul.
ask me not what my thoughts are --- bestow upon me the dignity to gracefully concede defeat in a battle i haven't fought. accord me that little field where my desperate reflections and i can roam freely without fear or embarrassment of having meandered too much; let me have this, for you have conquered all.
let my silence speak for me. let my speechlessness be my final act of love. my unspoken words might barrel through your irresolution; i would like for you to discover by yourself where your bliss lies. so, ask me not. allow the noiselessness to envelop you; and perhaps, when you hold me as i cry, when you read between the lines of my smiles, when you see that faint glimmer reflected in my eyes, and when you weave your fingers through mine, you just might hear what i am not saying.
and finally before i send you off, i am letting my silence speak for me. let it talk about hope, and the pain of waiting for that which might never come.
love is what is left at the end of the day.
From: melbourne, victoria, Australia
About me: i'm a wanderlust and a warrior of life. i have hordes of nomads and soldiers waiting to wander this sometimes barren and sometimes lush landscape of my head. i send them forth. they are my words. my weapon of choice: purple prose
posted by lei at 10:28 AM
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
a poem they will not understand
What trails behind us
Is a smog of colors
Each step
Is a fume of a truth
That only you and me
Can see
What plays between us
Are songs of birds
every strum of my hand
on the strings of your back
every breath that
you whistle on my ear
is a symphony
only you and me
can hear
What speaks between us
Are whispers of trees
The words that whirl
Between your lips
And mine is
A poem they will not understand
Is a smog of colors
Each step
Is a fume of a truth
That only you and me
Can see
What plays between us
Are songs of birds
every strum of my hand
on the strings of your back
every breath that
you whistle on my ear
is a symphony
only you and me
can hear
What speaks between us
Are whispers of trees
The words that whirl
Between your lips
And mine is
A poem they will not understand
Monday, April 03, 2006
half-circle
the sun stays where it has always been
but we move away from its warmth...
at the beginning of the day
i walk with you
my fingers dancing with yours
hearts beating in rhythm
to our synchronized steps
intents entwined in harmony
until the night beckons
and my shadow grows stronger
menacing
engulfing me.
run away, love
away from the l e n g t h e n i n g shadows
run after the setting sun.
half-circle...
when i trudge towards the heat
of the rising sun, exhausted
..chilled to the bone
where would you be?
but we move away from its warmth...
at the beginning of the day
i walk with you
my fingers dancing with yours
hearts beating in rhythm
to our synchronized steps
intents entwined in harmony
until the night beckons
and my shadow grows stronger
menacing
engulfing me.
run away, love
away from the l e n g t h e n i n g shadows
run after the setting sun.
half-circle...
when i trudge towards the heat
of the rising sun, exhausted
..chilled to the bone
where would you be?