i don’t remember the world before you -
swaddled by light, you set the night sky aglow.
you and i both know why –
all to keep an illusion going.
yesterday, you remembered nothing,
light offers perspective:
on a warm spring morning, on this crisp april morning,
in a lithe world
you are the impetus to my fragmenting.
the light has abandoned us all,
don't martyr yourself –
i promise you it’s safe again,
it’s summer again, your words still linger in the air –
“i'll stay with you”.
the moon hollows itself out,
like hibiscuses in the summer,
she is of star-dust now.
i'll pluck the flowers off of me,
i live a cursed existence.
you are the ambrosia i devour in secret.
and i became long-forgotten,
basking in your light.
i’m intimate with the poetry they’re capable of,
when i speak your name,
with every breath of crisp april air –
time has come to a rolling stop.
starring you and i,
(&) the cosmos i want to explore.
but for now, i'm content
with the poetry.
a cento poem, line 1-29 uses a line from my napowrimo day 1-29 poems.