LOST LOVER. 

 A shadow of a beloved. 
 Shoved aside for protection. 
 Holding a spear dripped in blood. 
 Not knowing to what degree she stood. 
 Stained from kin and pride. 
 The noise only louder died. 
 Ignoring at the top it would all collide. 

His body moved through the night with such precision, I knew he felt every fiber of my being vibrate in his liking. His eyes were bright and quick in the danger of the night. The bricks cemented to one another began to cave in and he must have seen my tearing and marking. He was not numb to the pain that was at our cores. He was majestically grand and would shed tears coming from his soul as he saw my secrets and pain. He was the man that my mind did not know yet my soul yearned for. But do not misunderstand, my story is not a novel you may search for happiness in. It has been a command that my life be damned. 

Listen here to the serpent’s tale that tore my man. 

The skies were a grayish hue of blue full of gloom and doom. The trees, always humble, chose not to appear fool and so allowed their colored leaves to fall to the ground. Though cemented in good intentions those dressed in dark capes and filled with vengeance moved through the night and day in deceit. 

Still foolishly I ask about the love that seemed through the palace of intervention and dissonance. How can he love me? How when there is rust on the side of the platter that they served and the dagger in my hand is pressing me to sin. 

Still foolishly I hope and I take a step to dance and hold you in my arms. But why would any of it matter; they shot me. A bullet not bigger than a coin and yet strong enough to stir the course of the civilized. The face of the shooter was proud and roughly repulsive. 

The corrupt whiteness of our dress spread, stained. A mixture of my blood and your sin, bathed. 

Still foolishly I smile back, my eyes full of cynical pain. I already shared; life is not full of light but rather misery. A mere passageway of darkness that one must fight through.

I never did cry for those mistresses poisoning their claims with the sweetness of their nectures they had previously gifted to their wives. What we have deemed strong has suddenly been deemed wrong. Naked and folded in desire and removed dealings. 

Your beautiful fingers seem to be stained smearing the blood on my face and your eyes full of sparkling love and hope seem to cry. Don’t you hear the orchestra- the strings. They are moving. Listen. Your chest and your arms and your intimacy. Building. Dissonance dissipating. 

My dress removed, I lie in vulnerability with metal prongs searching for other metal bits in my skin and yet I could not help but cower that the hardness of my heart might be mistaken for an orphan organ. So, I cannot help but notice the trees in their nakedness. How beautiful it must be to stand tall and proud and spread your seed so peacefully. 

There are fuller days, your delicate loving chaos has taught me. 

Do not hold my wound so deeply. Look at the darkness of the skies. I am but a moving visage of love. You must go. The girl is still stuck in the tower with men coming and going and tearing at her dress. Protect her. Love her. And above all endure and tell her to endure. 

This world is but a passageway. 

With that the serpent pushed the dagger through his chest. He fell but not without another spilling the blood of the children left behind in the orphanage and the priests and rabbis falling to their knees asking for forgiveness. The stands of holy water pushed down. Money burning, the king was moving. Moving through the channels of the night only to be stopped by the bandits he had created. They should have known that you can never remain the only devil, there will always be another. The poison had already filled their cups of pain and gold their platters. 

 The streets stained, the damage was made. 
 My soul aching, was in pain. 
 I asked for forgiveness, knowing its name. 

Now I must leave you with nothing but nothing. 

The ghost of my lover naming its claim, sealing the flame. 

To that I say, what a blessing it is to be dust with a missing lover left astray.

-jt