Untitled
Cody J. Hartley
How can I write the necessary words,
Or give new urgency to time's passing?
Three days into February and the calendar still reads
Yesterday
Like a parched monument, a high-watermark
Of when the world was twitterpated
And you could be loved by me,
When impossible moons twice turned to blood while she stared,
Her dark eyes more brilliant than fourteen saints.
but my fastened eyes see no more beauty now.
The cries and kisses of feeble lovers move me less
Than the blade of grass that has held her footstep.
And although the loss of such a sweet thing terrifies me,
I still love this life.
But the truth is that my strength is wanting,
My shallow breathing quickened only by old I love you's
Written on dog-eared paper in fading ink,
And the discovery of sand in a book
I read to her at the beach once.
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