Cartography of Folly

Oh, how I miss you so, that I cannot let go, of the maps you wore, and the vows you swore.

I'm mapping your random vessels,
Imagining against the yesterlights,
The treacherous echo of you,
Calling it to dance our tarantellas �"
Choreographed ballets, for imaginary
Dancing birds, wasting life inside
Wooden quarters, safes, forgotten homes of
Archaic anatomy, the Once: when we laid,
Backbones resting zealously atop boring tiles,
The absence of the spirited, elastic lawn, covered
In frost, in seasonal licks, "We are", you declare,
"Enough.", toying happiness as if it was a meek affair,
Masking my silence, of times I didn't know,
Ago of youths, charting our disasters, forgetting
Essential organs too, buried within fruity flesh,
And as your bruised lungs airpaint reality
With their heavy breathing, agreeable natures,
The back yard's wildflowers fade, I am
I'm unseen, and to the drums of your ears
I become my selves/I sing insane.

Author's Note

When we were enough...
All feedback is much appreciated, always. ♥

Reviews

[Juliet]

This is a splendidly emotional piece, but not in the traditional romanticist way that most write. It's unique and well worded. Overall a great write. Kudos!

[Mia Deuser]

Thank you so very much! I am really truly honoured and glad you thought so, and cared as much as to comment about it; all of my pieces, I suppose, mean a great deal to me, emotionally. In a more simple way, I write to exist outside of myself, so it is the most wondrous feeling in the world to have these parts of me complimented and reckoned. Well, now I will cease to babble, thanks again for your kind words.