Home » Poems » Audonus Taylor » Landslide

Landslide

Of all the memories I hold of you,
I have written of all except the most 
vivid.
Maybe I am afraid of sharing that
 deeply as a writer, as a man, as a 
person.
Perhaps I fear I cannot hold my 
breath long
enough to survive the submergence 
without
tears freeing drops of salty liquid 
from my lungs. Just enough to keep 
me conscious and myself during the 
descent to the most beautiful and 
guarded memory I have to date.

I still recall the day my eyes learned 
to properly interpret the beauty of a 
portrait, because your face tapped 
my sense of sight.
I still recall the way a simple touch 
could
wake a body more than life itself,
because you touched my shoulder to 
gain my attention, the one thing that 
was always yours.
I still recall the chill of an owned 
heartbeat willingly belonging to 
someone who was once a stranger,
Its skip when you smiled, its race 
when you teased, and the agony it 
felt when you were the slightest bit 
sad...

Yes, I recall each of these 
experiences happening with 
successions of breaths.
Three deep ones, and I was too 
attached
to decide which of us I loved more.
One more, and reality slipped away
to become a single recurring 
thought:
"Awake or asleep, alive or dead, 
wherever I am now, with her, is my 
day, my existence."
Yeah, I remember every single 
second.
Each one was a few moments of 
finding
forever, and they each bear the 
imprint of my clenched hand...

For me, that was the landslide.
The time in my life when
all structure and foundations of 
beliefs
were destroyed by emotions 
unknown to me.
Where the purity of powerful snow 
collided
with the earth that once rested 
firmly beneath my feet.
And all I once believed, as a boy, 
was too damaged by the laws of life 
to get back.
I was a teenager afterwards, and 
my childhood innocence left the 
moment I chose to love with the 
urgency of a body, trapped beneath 
the rubble of what was, seeking 
oxygen to survive to what would be, 
could be, should have been.
And that clueless boy with the 
nervous smile died that day.
Life stole that innocence with 
promises of a lasting first love, only 
love, being offered at the end of a 
yoyo string.

But now, as child became teenager, 
teenager is now damaged young 
man. Bitter, cold, and still clueless as 
to what is worth changing for, dying 
for.
Still terrified of the next landslide to 
destroy the little that was salvaged 
from the first.
Wishing like hell that he could be 
that little boy once more, but all the 
while knowing:
No amount of digging will ever see 
him live again...

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