The Outsider

 
“The Outsider”

You are ashes…and I am scattered…
My veins are in the trees…
Yes, my blood is in the leaves.
I am so sorry I cannot feel you anymore:
There are too many places where I am hidden.
My desires are laid bare.

Someone is dreaming inside of me—
The outsider speaks with my voice,
Looking with my eyes on everyone.
I do not know who this is.
(.si siht ohw wonk ton od I)
But this shade must be known to you—
When I tried to surface, I lost the way—
There is no return from the mourning
Of what I was, where all is barren now.
(si siht ohw wonk ton od I)
I turn to face the sky surrounding you—
What speaks to you with my voice
All I long to say, echoing in the whispers
I once believed were my thoughts?
(si siht ohw wonk ton od I)

I cannot weep with tears of my own,
For I am ashes unscattered, unburned,
Save when you are near, in starlight
Where you are written in an ancient tongue—
Constellations paint in time a silhouette of you.
Sometimes, I hear you call out your farewell:
A parting denied me by the stars that stand in your way.
My love will never pass, though time will claim me.
There were two roads in the sky—
One where I may find you, and one where I will die—
If only long enough to say goodbye.

© 2022 Marten Hoyle