Epicedium Amore

When the numbing sadness feathers this stillborn heart

and these eyes I sting with light are a migraine haze

seemingly lidded for eternity, I will hope

a hope not foolish, not unreal

this hope is the strength of my ancestors.

When sleep will not capture with gentleness this wounded heart

and the swirling night will not slow rampaging blood

when sanity holds on with icy gloves

I will drain that paralysis of being

that forbids re-entry to life

to sleep as a newborn within mother’s song.

When she is no longer wonder to this romantic heart

and tomorrow lives as spent reflections of yesterdays

to anchor entropy on a ghostly coastline

I will break the erotic danse-macabre

with all I can summon

to wake in some sweet foreign port.

When my heart is forgotten, love’s power near death

within the myopic miasma of my maddened mind

wine my winsome solitary companion

I will survive by inches

Of yes and no, forever and never, why and what cause

while my heart plays my emotions of what will be…what was.

MaxS 1994