Frayed dreams (as one).

Frayed dreams, the pathway,
Strangers and passengers,
Abandoned by the wind’s blow,
As we emerge from the lit sky,
Traveling from our stone-kissed feet,
And if you stood, I’d have not gleamed
From the abyss,
From the fern, soaked with blood,
Shattered in the daylight, love;
I hear footsteps evoke the brush,
And the fields echoing, bolstered
By the dream’s repertoire,
The silence wrestled on, and we cannot speak;
A dying flicker by our eyes,
Loitering on the oaks in memory
Half-choked, the marauding rocks
Burst on the grass, thriving on the cold,
And the shade near the cut of red,
The flower on the softest hands,
The flower still unbound,
A flash of wind that
Darkens the valley;
And we reach carelessly
In the protracted gaze of snow,
As the quarry impels us in silence
In the blue sanctuary
The side of steel, twofold
With a rise in the sky by the masts,
And our minds, wormed with
Ice, and fragments of speech,
For darkness was ceaseless,
And we fell from the murmured winds,
The abandoned mirror possessing
Solitude in the sound of rocky sliding
Bones and we stand in verse, in rest,
Lying down, curved in the break of ice,
In the bare of fruit, the contortions of our reflections,
On the thinning marred pause pulverized,
And we are merely handfuls of ashes
Scattered into each other as sun-trailed ghosts
In the rainfall of the cold,
Fading memory… In all summoned words,
Silence tipped and frenzied
Into the dew fields,
With the rustle of a landslide
Onto our palms, bruising the wind
As one, finally one.

© 2020 All Rights Reserved.

12 thoughts on “Frayed dreams (as one).”

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