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Valentine's Day
“Valentine’s Day”
I can see the place where I left the Earth behind
To see the shadows of our forms entwined.
I still fall into your arms, to say I miss you
But I dare not; I should have—I cannot kiss you.
My heart still enfolds you in the afterglow,
My reflection holds you in the night-lit window.
Is this a vision of a world that is no longer breathing,
But where, in the loneliness, my heart is beating?
The day passed with the stillness of entombed ages,
While across the lines of time’s empty pages
I prayed to read your name to the close
Marking my tears with the remains of a rose.
And on my final page, I will die loving you
Though it be you who pierced my bosom through.
Let the seasons be still at that farewell
Where over my heart the darkness fell.
I can see the place I left Earth to find you.
That day, the sky had never been so blue.
And I fell into the sky on broken wings
Into a thousand dusks and a thousand mornings—
On a breath of memory:
Echoes of what could be.
I’m still falling into the arms I know,
In the cold where you never will go.
© 2022 Marten Hoyle
I can see the place where I left the Earth behind
To see the shadows of our forms entwined.
I still fall into your arms, to say I miss you
But I dare not; I should have—I cannot kiss you.
My heart still enfolds you in the afterglow,
My reflection holds you in the night-lit window.
Is this a vision of a world that is no longer breathing,
But where, in the loneliness, my heart is beating?
The day passed with the stillness of entombed ages,
While across the lines of time’s empty pages
I prayed to read your name to the close
Marking my tears with the remains of a rose.
And on my final page, I will die loving you
Though it be you who pierced my bosom through.
Let the seasons be still at that farewell
Where over my heart the darkness fell.
I can see the place I left Earth to find you.
That day, the sky had never been so blue.
And I fell into the sky on broken wings
Into a thousand dusks and a thousand mornings—
On a breath of memory:
Echoes of what could be.
I’m still falling into the arms I know,
In the cold where you never will go.
© 2022 Marten Hoyle
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