Saturday, 21 June 2008

• Currently Reading The Flowers of Evil (Oxford World's Classics) By Charles Baudelaire see related

  When I Set You Away (though you'd already set yourself)

  
  

  
  
  

  But there were only so many times you could touch me before the ice that built in you began to rest upon my cheek. Like a whale that’s been breached under the winter’s moonlight, so am I. We used to lay entwined the two of us. Such shelter we found amidst each other.

  And now your heartbeat follows your footsteps. And your breath is like starlight in my arms, feeling- I cannot grasp. It’s all I can do to hold on to what is left of you. Of us. When in life I took all I wanted, now you leave me with nothing but almosts.

  In my mind,I find the way back to my favorite part of you- where your shoulder meets your neck- your skin so pale, your body tightly wrapped in mine.You always smelled of pears, so sticky sweet. I couldn’t help but  taste.

  But sometimes, something works its way between the cracks. Crawling and grasping, penetrating anything it finds. It spoils. It spoiled you. You weren’t ever meant to be touched like that. And I was never meant to promise you you wouldn’t be.

  Too sweet my darling.

  You were always too sweet. No one could look and not crave a taste of you.When I held you in my arms, I could only realize the irony of my tears, come too late.

  I cannot follow, though I’ll take your ashes to the sea. The salt of the ocean carrying your scent away with it. Such waves, such temerity, wreaking havoc on what isn’t left of you. It doesn’t matter does it?

  Ankles, knees, waist, chest, neck- it doesn’t matter.

  I’ve lost you, you’re not coming back.

  
  

  • 6:05 PM
  • 468 Views
  • 26 eProps
  • 14 Comments