Her Love Is A Madness
‘I fancied you’d return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.’
When did I become mad,
the day I began loving you,
singing in my head how we
are one instead of two
Or crashing ashore in winters wrath,
rockweed wringing hands around
granite boulders moved only in storms
at highest peaks of existence
where you were there, only you and I
and the fullest moon ---
Did you ever envision me
that I might see you there,
did your seasons ever care
to birth me in spring,
exalt me in summer,
kill me in fall, or
forget me in winter,
Were you ever there at all?
Her love is a madness
and it comes quite frequently to call.
Man, seeking me ---
you go astray and I fall apart inside.
There are no other she’s
to the one inside me.
She is a heresy
a flare to ash, gold to molten
thus he loves her.
She is at home on him
each time she dies,
each time she cries,
he rises, crashing alive.
He is a figment of her mind
and so heartily derived in
mad reams of longing
ever heavy to bear,
in this she can almost see him there
if she looks with an innermost eye
and squints, stares.
That picture on my mantle is
almost him, she swears
as he dissolves on her tongue like
a losenge of sedation.
And she sleeps with him
ever near, ever dear.
They turn together in sleep
and he sings inside her head
a melancholy song of what could be
if only we were free,
only, you are only inside me.
Her heart in tow he
creeps along, creeps along,
he waits in mortem to echo
her maddest love song ---
Like the surf it rises and swells
it crashes on shores never to tell
only to breathe, only to bray,
and like the turning tide it
slinks away in morbid dread.
Love is a cancer and it flies angry;
a thunderbird inside her head.
She knew him once before a fall,
she knew his love of her only once
or never at all.
He was the red that adorned her hellfire,
he was the blue that extinguished her pyre.
She, a tiny boat afloat on a sea of him ---
He was hope, a paper heart;
he was a wish to never part,
he was immaterial.
Now he sinks so low to a sandy bottom,
Her heart closes in on him like sand
around a crab when it burrows deep.
Inside her head will you ever sleep
swaying along with the maddest refrain
cycling between a known man and a name.
Ever alive in a brine of solutions
I respire, to swallow our every occlusion
a love of The Sea, I become like her
reaching her crested hands to
every far shore.
Deepest, darkest dive pool to swim in,
furthest a fathom to ever live in
Like The Sea I love the creatures,
all their turmoil, their strangest features.
When they starve and when they thrive,
I love them all in their fight to survive.
And My Love comes calling,
a seabird on a wing riding an updraft
as my ankles are embraced in slimy rockweed
sucking me in where I stand.
And the shore is so very far away,
framed in glass as on the clearest, fairest day.
I look to the blue where horizon meets sea
and love is there, somewhere ---
A tiny white speck moving away from me.
It is a land far away, it seems,
and I am in between her and me.
Here is somewhere I never longed to be.
her salty elements are absorbed by me.
In time, I will wash ashore with these---
Her very affections of me.