The Unsuspected Language

[generaljanuary]

If I find for the first time
That words would wither my thoughts
It is the baffling fear that they might fail me
That tears me from being transported

For I have found no need
And felt no fascination
Towards the fights of the mind
My breath painfully turns to dust
As your features unfurl
Couched and Burrowed and Adored
In the folds of my soft and round dreams

The distance though written in desolate days
Bears no turmoil or torment
In the vast plain of my loneliness
Flowers of your face bloom and die
And bloom again

Memories as gently waved flags
Swaying silk upon my skin
Committed to nothing, committed to fantasy
Uncertainty dabs bluntly though quietly
At the edges of my fretful feelings
How to describe the loss of sense of self?

If I find for the last time
That words would translate my emotion
It is the baffling fear that you might fail me
That keeps me from you

Fannie D. 17/08/08