Paint Me Sorrowful

Coloring the edges, I am silent morose
In chamber music piqued surroundings
I walked outside the persistence of memory
And strolled into her face
Picking strands of golden tresses
Twined into a noose of inarticulation

My mouth is stapled with misgivings
Splashing canvas with the red
A studio of a thousand windows
Painted shut with all I said

The atmosphere misted murky whispers
A still life relief inside a vase
Desensitized, I'm floating callous
A nowhere scream against the wind
Biting arctic the chill in quiet
A collage made of hopeless endeavors

"Take off your mask," she said
That I am too beautiful for a poem
She was too beautiful for words
Speaking smoke rings at the ceiling
We were kissing snow globes
And making love to our pillows

I loved a ghost of opaqueness
She loved me just as fiercely
A September feast in autumn eyes
We consumed ourselves with a look
I can still trace it with eyes closed

I held my heart inside my fingers
Presented it with a bow
She smashed it twice and gave me hers
I gave us a year

We built our lives on incense vapor
And carved our home from glass
Then we started throwing stones
Brilliant were the shards as they reflected
Each facet of our love

Of that house I picked a prism
Fashioned a ring to place on her finger
She cut it off last Thursday
Along with my pride

I woke up stormclouds on a clear Sunday
Wishing it was last Christmas
I was trapped inside a thought
And lost without a star