more old love poems...

"To the Relics of Deceit"

The mountains were high and looming.
There was a story in the hills.  You were laying in my arms.
breathing nothings, gentle still.

There was only one thing, all that I could ever know
was that I could not disturb you.  Nor could I ever let you go.

It was the sleep of death and peace.  A moment beyond words
that God could not remember, that Hell could not disturb.

I could only hide so much.  Our naked skin drank in the sun.
It was pouring through the skylights.  On this victory we'd won.

The smile on your face said, that you'd not slept for many years
I felt an awning merging forward, against the tide of a decade's tears.

Never breathe with me again.  Perhaps our lungs do not deserve
the satisfying oxygen, that understanding would preserve.

I willed the moment frozen.  Never future, never past.
May it never happen, we would see the shadows cast

upon a vision of forgiveness.  Of the chances that could come
with the sleep of some forever, -- That first time in the Sun.

You had beaten me to nothing.  I had wrecked you with the light
of a thousand armored words, against which you were too tired to fight.

You gave me supplication.  I abandoned my conceit.
We both had said goodbye, to the relics of deceit.

The horses had been dying.  There were teardrops in the yard.
they hung from frozen flowers, that no winter could have marred.

Your eyes had never opened.  My arms they would not let
not God or Hell disturb you, or your slumber be upset.