Too Little Too Late
Half my soul shadows his reflection
leaving me with silent voices and vacant thoughts
But the other half , the other half lies hidden .Hidden and lost !
Lost in days of sending postcards,in months of sealing letters
lost in years of our laughter ,of warm long distant calls.
Lost in time and moons before ,
when it wasn't the spirit that moved me to bleed
nor my passion of fresh ink upon the rose ,
But it was an unsettled muse,the same muse
that captured my existence ,and obsessed me
to need it desperately all along.
Now this muse who left my world without identity,
who abandoned me , abandoned me when I needed it most
has made a return, an unexpected return with a will to belong.
It came back to me , and how it seduced me with its competent flame
outshining all the other stars ,Carrying me back to once upon a moment
where him and I left off . My muse came back ,
It whispered beyond unforgotten salts , and waves that dried my lips
that crushed my still heart back and forth.
It pleaded for re-union , for remembarance , for compassion ,
It begged to renew our vow , just oncemore.
But , it is too late,too late for empty chapters to be filled or be continued
too late for questions , for answers , for music ,for perfume and songs.
Its too late for wishes to conquer silver dust
when these nights do not dream about him anymore.
.
Inspired by the movie ' Il Postino ' (fiction poem )
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015
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