winter's ghost (ruecian) wrote in tea_time,
winter's ghost
ruecian
tea_time

[11.01.05]

The strong scent of memories
came in on the winds
through Penn Station.
A brief inhalation of images
frozen in time
erupted in encircling, hawk-life
words,
words
we scarred each other
with
when our
eyes
burnt like
embers,
when our
love
ran like
two sparrows,
scattered,
off in completely
opposite directions.
And now, as I chase your shadows, as I
run up to all of your favourite
places after being shot
with rubber bullets, I watch the subway map
and I envision
between the [Q and 2] lines
that there is a
circle around
my heart
with a scorching arrow
and a label screaming
YOU
ARE
HERE.

... but my mind knows
I should stop you at the borders,
and I know you don't mean it,
but you walk so heavily,
and you forget to check your shoes at the door.
I, instead of your cotton tip-toeing,
feel the awkwardness of rubber beneath canvas
and it's cold.
And now we exist
as a double yellow line; we can parallel on site
and location,
but we run at different times,
never meeting,
self-defeating...
I just can't imagine why
I agreed to this.

But in this time,
I'd have to say
that I've started to grow away from you,
and my leaves follow a new, uncatchable sun.
New blue carpets keep the cold out,
and they cushion your silenced steps,
and these winds remind me,
as they caress my ears in sweet endearment,
they remind me that I really
should have
agreed to these parallels after all.
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