Tell Me No More of Enchanted Days

  You looked happy enough, Though it was a long time back. Were you smothered by shame? I doubt it, there's your hand around her neck. Were you planning your secret getaway? Maybe, see, I don't remember seeing the signs. But I've always been stupid that way. Where was I in that moment of your glory? Oh, yes, behind those cream desks, Living on coffee and cigarettes, Paying bills left astray, like your rolled up Dreams going dark into a cloud. Filling the fridge shelves with food to survive. I thought I had forgiven, but I only forgot. How can you forgive something you don't recollect? All I remember is her sweat in your hair. And now I can see you smiling, In a memory I know nothing of. I swear I don't remember anything. I don't feel any pain, I don't feel anything at all.

A blue shirt matches Your spider veins; lapis lazuli Beads in broken down skin. Even the sky matches the mood, Dark, darker, inky ceramic pots Kept aside for special nights. There is a fire in your hands, Blood warmed by cold flame, Not dulled, but simmering, Fingers reaching out to the highest Elusive branches of wet trees, Coloured in desire, the drip drop Pellets merge with your skin, Like a famous painting; whirls Of agony and ecstasy Brushed away with lonesome sighs, Spun like stars with each new longing.

The rain is relentless, Every day the puddles fill With muck and old newspapers, Stories refusing to settle and fly away. The leaves grow yellow, like Overripe pears, waiting to burst Into a sugary mess, tired of Waiting for the strong, fearless sun To show up and clear the suffocating moss. Flowers wither to the ground, Without a choice; broken hearts Unaware of where they went wrong. Seeds refuse to come forth; days wasted In a stern, cold hope, but nothing changes. I sit here in the park, feet lifted away From the ground; dirty feet enter Homes, no, I will not be so irresponsible. The boys play football in the green grass, I wish I too could do that. But I still don't understand, Why are the plants dying?