mettre au tombeau

pressing slow fading memories
between the softest of pages
my book of stars became weighted
as i waited for the dream to change
while owls slept moon drunk and wish full

i wanted to know that peace
ached for such stillness and settling
yet i was unable to touch it
while your whispers remained on my fingertips

:

morning hours spent staring into a cold sun 
that left upon my tongue the bitter taste of not enough
the hours trudged past soaked with longing
while my soul clung to the imprint of yours

i wanted something more than tears
spun and spiraling in off centered concentric
trying to restitch the shape of you upon my sleeve
into something other than lost

:

turning days shifted into a turned me
aside and hoping less with more grace
finding a shade of maybe and passing fair
becoming something for someone 
sometimes even almost enough 

i wanted to appear elegant and unmoving
masking the void i locked away in a fairytale
kept safe for rainy days and floor born breaking
where only i could see our forgotten silhouette

:


i kept our altar there
never thinking of the tomb i'd become

.

or that you might return to open the door