In dance there is a term; retrograde
Describing the arc of suffering
As the ghost of you lingers in my chest
A filament of feeling, resting its head in green bones
calcium for the night swimmer, I heard you whisper as clear as a bell
Will cut through water, hoisting ships from wreckage
I have lain shipwrecked on these granite rocks
Searching behind my eyelids for your presence
To lose myself in your familiarity, when all the world is strange
Every day has been a développé ache, comprised of chambers
Like a Seville blood orange; precious juice divided from the heart, awaits
I think if I could, I would open my mouth and instead of words
Oceans would pour forth
You were my 70 percent sea, my tempest, the forging anchor
Diving bell, pinning in silt, we neither sank nor emerged
Losing focus beneath waves till all I dreamed
Was the coin of you pressed into me, an outline more known
Than my own
I don’t say it often; but the sting is omnipresent salt water
Against the wound of your absence, all doors shut fast
Against any replacement, just like sea glass, rolling
For ancients to hold against sun, still the cloud of their making
On the surface, a cast, a certain temperature, the cobalt blue
Of persistence, imbedded within, replaces blood
I am filled instead, with the vowels of drowning
Where, letting go, I may, I may, find you again.
The peculiar ache of an un-present presence – paradox of love
Captivating images
So well filled with excellent imagery
Lovely deep feelings you find within yourself!
Oh, this so well describes those from the past who still tempt us! <3