|One - When Neverending Ends|

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A poem- a puzzle,

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A poem- a puzzle,

An enigma written in blue or yellow or red.

Words- a needle

Piercing through the paper, the canvas.

Concepts and ideas become instruments,

The cry of a clarinet waltzes with the frailty of a piano.

Emotions become imagery,

Lone lilies and melancholic raindrops

Catenate an illustration of despondency.

The colors, the sounds, the thoughts-

Fade into feelings of confined intimacy

Fade into feelings of hopeless happiness

Fade into feelings of love.


How do I write words into an ending?

How do I write words into romance?

Why do I feel so happy when I see you

But also feel sad?

Aristocratic sophistication turns to cheerful simplicity.

A rush of joy and fear and sadness races through me when I think of you,

But neither prose nor stanza

Rhyme nor rhythm

Word nor image

Or even sound,

Can express the pain of a hopeless romance.


Love- a puzzle,

A tragedy written in light pinks and dark blues.

Feelings- a needle,

Piercing through the heart, the soul.

Thoughts and hopes become instruments,

An orchestra of lovelorn exhilarations.

Emotions become imagery

An outstretched hand drowning in the sea,

Reaching for something, anything.

The colors, the sounds, the thoughts-

Fade into confined intimacy

Fade into hopeless happiness

Fade into bittersweet poetry.

When is it ok to say I love you?

Because it hurts so much not to.


When Neverending Ends

Written on February 14th, 2019.


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