Image for the poem L

L'elisir d'amore

a chant drifted on frail rhythm; I thought it a poem
but it was the wind, wailing, & thus was more

ellipses indicate the affair was merely abandoned
had I kissed her, it would have been finished

the city was mitochondrial but for she
it was neither remarkable, nor Verona

it was utterly dark, no stars, & the train moaned in metal
if there is a story, it’s already been written

being radical by nature, I laved most often
the flesh on the back of her knees

she needed violins & tails-of-nine to make her beautiful
travesties that were not in my arsenal

a soldier’s vanities are intoned, secretive, to a lover
but that a woman never speaks them

I would have bequeathed to her my exquisite heart
but for the lack of a word: stay

I have not loved since yesterday
and tomorrow will find me the same…

(Art: Lou Stoumen)

Written by JohnFeddeler
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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