Dying Canyons

I long to lead you to the psychosis of your existence;
toward the ill repute of your identity, something amiss reaches for meaning.

I would rather wish you gone before too much is said.
I would rather wish you gone before too much is said.

I long to lead you to the thorny wire crawling around my limbs, 
or maybe you rather fancy my fettered hands. 
As you have taken much and I so little.
As you have taken much and I so little.

I long to lead you to my endless skeleton assortments, 
to my primordial fossils and domestics departed.
Highland mammals unknown.
Highland mammals unknown.

I long to lead you to my senseless heights,
to the vast drop from which they have risen and fallen—
The dying canyons chilled with black fog.
The dying canyons chilled with black fog.

I long to lead you to my fingers scratching the backbone of lost time, 
every tip stroke leaving a distinctive marking.
They possess your hidden origin.
They possess your hidden origin.


I long to lead you to my clouded eyes that see all,
to the squalid corrosion that cakes my lungs.
Through the cavity I was born.
Through the cavity I was born.

I hunt for you…in the dying canyons chilled with black fog.
I hunt for you…in the dying canyons chilled with black fog.
I hunt for you…in the dying canyons chilled with black fog.
I hunt for you…in the dying canyons chilled with black fog.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

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Bordner Avatar
February 24, 2025 at 4:23 PM
You've something quite special here Poetess. The lyrical wingtips of your wisdom are sensational. You speak of a disillusioned devotion, I wonder to whom, or to what...what is it that your focused fingertips are spelling on that exquisite spine of Time ? One would undoubtably need to be versed in Love to know. I love it when your ancient pulse is on display Laura. This poem is another FAV!, you have the most in my file :) ...J.A.B.
Breidenthal Avatar
February 24, 2025 at 5:49 PM
I adore hopping between realms… between the ancient pulse you speak of and the ill immediate. The light and the crushing… this realm here is chillier than most… a place I tend to stay. Glad the black fog of it made it to your keen perception. I’m thrilled to be the most in your file favs, Justin—likewise (: <3 Laura
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