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deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Room
This room has seen
us to the last.
The years have cast our meetings here
as images on frosted glass
with raindrop spray.
Our secret past is sealed away
inside a dream…
This room has seen a place
where I belonged to you,
and you alone belonged to me.
Such love is true apparently
inside this room.
This room has seen me spread my wings
and writhe beneath your welcome weight,
has heard me scream,
has watched me quake.
Then when it seemed that I would break,
this room, like sanctuary made
the burn recede.
It dulled the blade.
This room has seen
our last goodbye,
has watched me tangled up inside
your scent,
your smile,
your emerald green.
But I have wiped the surface clean
and still don’t know just what you mean
by ‘every happiness’.
us to the last.
The years have cast our meetings here
as images on frosted glass
with raindrop spray.
Our secret past is sealed away
inside a dream…
This room has seen a place
where I belonged to you,
and you alone belonged to me.
Such love is true apparently
inside this room.
This room has seen me spread my wings
and writhe beneath your welcome weight,
has heard me scream,
has watched me quake.
Then when it seemed that I would break,
this room, like sanctuary made
the burn recede.
It dulled the blade.
This room has seen
our last goodbye,
has watched me tangled up inside
your scent,
your smile,
your emerald green.
But I have wiped the surface clean
and still don’t know just what you mean
by ‘every happiness’.
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