Fifteen To Fifteen

From Fifteen to Fifteen,

All the love and memories and framed moments in between,
befitting we fell on artificial lovers holiday, you with brow the jaw
the hair, me with the lust the love the desire,

a willing participant
I purview no writing on the wall
the depths of pain to come that future is so far— I cannot see it,
the willingness to be vulnerable in your love,,, surmising I won’t be
around long enough for its piteous end…Ah but I am the tortuous the
pit,
the glare of eternity is now before me
The end-- the end of us all
this rock, this ball spinning with mad energy in the universe, and the
tiny dramas played out laughable ha ha ha! Laughable….
In the agony the depths of despair you know you’re alive… the spirit
awakens it wishes to flee the tomb of flesh,
all the symbolism in numbers 13 unlucky, eight you are, 15 your gone…
a cold and rainy November condensation-- fogging along with my breath 
The interior of my car—obscures my teary vision of you driving away….
its the 15th of November, it is raining—so am I
I’m still here…
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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A  Avatar
December 10, 2015 at 12:26 PM
You referred to November in this poem. Makes me wonder if it's related in some way to your first poem. Dark November... Always. SKAT
Viswan Bhatia Avatar
December 10, 2015 at 9:34 AM
memoirs..they linger...
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