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Thursday, June 15, 2017

Portal of a memory

An iceberg rolls down a face and ends up warm,
calmly touches the ground,
and opens up a portal of a memory.

A snowflake falls
the globe spins,
exposing the back of a man
a corroded fragment

A marriage of hope and sorrow
that would wean the strongest of strong
from their power
the strongest of strong

And so I wonder, in this memory
what could it be?
That is so general yet specific?
How could it trigger the lives of so many?

It has the sweetest melody,
and the lyric goes like a formula.
It starts off with love
and gets left off with thought,
just thought.

A lover departs when a new heart arrives.
A fire dies when a tear arises.
A drawing is born of the fragrance and form of the way he would laugh like a child
and she would care like a mom
the way they would together, laugh.

The sweetest melody
of laughing eyes
squinted at the sides,
this feeling is magical
this feeling is sad
this feeling is a memory
of the best times we had.

And so the iceberg lands
in the form of a tear
the corroded fragment,
wet with fear -
the loss of God,
the loss of faith
the loss of love
wandering, wandering through sleepless nights.
Landing on the pillow of the feeling of love against the concrete ground.
until it scrapes off every inch of sound remaining in your ears.
Cleansing you, preparing you, to be part of the song.

The song of sorrow, the song of hope
the sweetest melody of joy afloat
The song of treason, the song of alcohol
of weary nights in the corner of a room.

A feather in his hand, a flower in your hair
a stolen kiss, in the backdrop of a rumbling dishwasher
The anxious nights, which glued two days
with no sleep in the middle, a buzzing text by the pillow

The valentines days, like the stripes on the road
driving through the years, with only one or two to count
and then you lived all the stripes at once
and get left with the blanks, to feel out the days
left in thought, in a few grand memory lanes.
speeding and slowing,
Sometimes whining, at times laughing,
in the whole circle of life,
with imperfect timing.