Thursday, March 09, 2006

I have seen it drive women to madness—
as definite as winter chill—the breeze
deep-seated, fixed like bullet to bone.

And it is beside you, inside you, all season:
something stirs in the air.

Voices, like petals pulled from their stems:
"He loves me." It is enough.

It is enough -
beneath a current, where stones lie silent,
where breath becomes still within minutes.

We say yes, yes, yes to it all – only to linger
on eastern edges, like game pieces: each
rapt to see where the other may go – so
still at times, we appear to be the next
period as it awaits return.

Once long ago, I walked this path, my body
became depleted, nerves on the ache of
splinter. And at the close of it all, I found
nothing. [I found nothing.]

My chest split in the bitter fist of December,
left to solidify in its grasp. I remained there
forever it seemed: bruised shins, hair in my
hands, and one black boot on the floor.

And across the miles, vast as an ocean song,
a handful of love awaits, its faith in me,
like an open field – I feel the warmth, but am
frightened of the [strength] it reveals.

4 comments to Cher:

amanda m. said...

i am in palo alto until saturday.
what are you up to?

Cherilyn Ferroggiaro said...

What are you doing there? Visiting?

amanda m. said...

yes, visiting.
wish i was staying.
i hate the east coast.

Lost Days said...

Where darkness once flourished, where
emptiness once reigned, it is only there,only deep within, where the hole gapes widest, only there, buried within the swamp waters of despair, there...there where rebirth of soul awaits that one word, that sole essence from which all fulfillment shall spring, and it is there
where the heart shall explode in new
ecstasy when its fated counterpart appears,that part of a soul split before time, that part of a heart that nothing else can replace...the twin flame of destiny, the one for which that heart yearns, needs, cannot live without, and on whose love it shall feed for eternity...and no distance,
no border, no fortified battle rampart
shall ever restrain the warmth flowing
forth, whispers from the past shall fade with each new breeze, each new caress...


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