 |
| Painting by Luca Ponsato |
Let your tears sleep
I do not summon Tears
They rise unbidden,
like sparks from a hidden fire
sliding down corridors
no one else can enter.
I carry them quietly
through rooms where the walls remember,
where shadows curl and flicker
like flames I cannot touch
but feel burning against my ribs.
The air bends around me,
thick with whispers of what was
and what might have been,
and I breathe anyway,
feeling the heat of the world
inside my chest
like a small, impossible sun
that refuses to be extinguished.
I do not call my heart to soften
it beats against the impossible,
against doors already closed,
against the silent flight of birds
that vanish into a sky
that remembers everything
but reveals nothing.
Memory drifts like smoke over a lake
that does not exist on any map,
and I follow it,
not seeking, not resisting,
watching it coil around my ribs
a living thing that both burns and heals.
I do not shrink
to fill the emptiness left behind,
nor kneel at thresholds
that vanish when I turn my head.
What I had was real,
what is gone is finished,
and I remain
whole, breathing,
with a quiet strength
that moves like molten water through stones,
soft, unstoppable,
and filled with light
that no absence, no fire,
can consume.
Comments
Post a Comment