time's passage

when last of losing, the ample fist who does turn down & quietly remind,

i have not left you yet ..

 

so long as you light the candle

drive in slowly down the bend

body (mind) & the quiver of your impulse 

(pulsed palm)

 

i would not choose it again, and so i no longer miss the madness that marks the love's arrow of its spears that speared us both, facing away from another, but reaching in from a palpitated heart, we only dismember further so as to shy away from the "i am only an egg"

still, swallow

 

still, your hollow,

will it return us once again (?)

 

there are too many talks of love, as if not engaging the entity itself .. what would it say? would love call forth again, the fall of an ocean's black, the cave beneath, some shallow and swallowing breathing of a light out of the darkness' hole, where dead things come to die so that what is 

dead may never die

 

time told you so ..

time tells you again

time tells only,

when the resting of your head.

 

 

copyright 2018 ⓒ / forrest gallagher