January New Year

 Poetry 8

Past lives refracted through the prisms of your eyes

Time welling in your tears, spilling over

I saw us dancing in the desert before bursting on the floor

Oasis scattered across the dusty tile

Sacred moments carried away by the Nile

Memories not forgotten but muddied by time

Stagnant pools evaporate

Can you describe a feeling half-remembered

when it toughens like leather?

Sinews that can't be cut with such a dull blade

I'll be the whetstone for your knife if you

promise to use it on me

Plunge it straight into my chest

Where my beating heart awaits to be bloodied again

Red and running through my veins

Warmth into my face

to press against yours and spread

Embers from the petrified

Stoke me, stoke me

Released from the atrophy