Ten Days

An enigmatic poem of love and longing, by Lipsa, exclusively for Different Truths.

Ten days remain; the sky’s brilliant blue,
Fading and silently blurring into the darkness,
Ten days later, will overpower the evil of my heart:
Destroyer of love, preserver of vengeance
Sky fades into gray and grays appear in my hair
Symbols not of age or wisdom
Merely the effect of the freezing heart I harbor

It has become hard with every stroke – intentional or innocent –
Left me cold and numb and helpless;
I stand like a statue staring at everything in my front
Yet I see nothing of the outside:

I see the blue of my heart darken with each falling teardrop
That one might have treasured, like an oyster does a pearl;
I see myself at the end of the road
Sitting in provocative garb on a king-sized bed
Waiting for nobody, I tell those that ask;

Oh, no, I’m taken – committed to a face
For him I wait, yearning to feel his reaching hands
On this king-sized bed never to be big enough for us;
We sit apart; talk of nothing; yet it feels normal
Like Distance and Silence were two languages of love
Passion coming up to the brim of both hearts.

I approach and wait for him half-way through the road
Ten days I wait for eleven minutes of closeness and unspeakable awkwardness.
Ten days and he still sits there staring past me at the hollow
The continuum of space and time receding away from me
Away from his grasp

But he doesn’t panic, he’s still as a leaf unaware of wind
He just stares but sees nothing of me – my body, my soul
They are his; but he’ll never know.

Photo from the Internet

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