Paying the Bill

Paying The Bill You may come to this some day It may issue from nowhere A moment un-strident A loose flagging half remembrance Something which neither carries Nor contains But a fickle shadow Thin and as meaningless with an empty whimper Not to enlighten or to comfort It will seep from you As if a blank half tactile memory Has produced a languid thud Which lays in your chest a solitary clue To nothing Not to carry you high No Nor to crystallise some point or thought in time Yes, nor to strip or burn with poignancy But to hang in immobility’s slaughtered Indefinable by its eclipse Not cold, neither warm As it surges through your blood Yes You may come to this Which does not ache or grip Yet sinks through a festering hangs between a single drip of life It will not betray or illuminate So Where came from its to rip Without hope or hopelessness For its ballad is sung by no one And you may shutter your eye in half a dream And love will come to you eventually For it will hang in your throat unspoken While the jagged cushion molests So the bones without vacant marrow May sequester what is left Hand over hand but empty Starving to death with everything Yes You may come to this And your eye and your smile Along with your heart and soul Will know gratitude Such is tormented will not release Go to breaking Stand, fall or simply give in It does not require such or to give you so much Other than the husk of its dreaming The petals in your hands are tears The broken shell in your heart dares you To amount to this Not vengeful, or supplicant Lays unperturbed by your diffidence Slamming on the icicle Knuckles white between the heat of your blood And yes You may come to this It will deny you It will not hold you Hold you through a promise Cutting the chord between you Open lipped in an assassins kiss Sneaking like a plague Through each and every single day Love will come Somehow Someway So torn apart have you ever been So buried or so lost As when love demands On a platter of silver that you pay the bill Remain hungry My friend Do not succumb or give in to delusion The sloth of your soul carries no burden And love does not care for your heart You have picked an epiphany A story, a tale which promises everything It does not invite your sallow complexion Yet each day it swallows the wine Dear love, dear sweet love so all is my love For you my love My only love My one true love And yes One might say That one day You will come to this