By A Pensive Flower, I Reason Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Perhaps to fade slowly, in the passing
Of the stars, or the cars, or the constellations
That I fortuitously tell out of whim, is to lose you
With one single breath of a withered tulip, a world of lilac dresses
Will always be close enough to rivet me in a world
Of a slow, clasping parade of one’s passing
So now tell me, that in the pristine reason of losing one’s being
In front of the mirror, and of not being with you
Resembles a fire that bathes in a garden of kerosene
And with a sartorial perfection of a man’s heavy face,
I find that in the conjured image – distorted, askew in the vapid mist
Leisurely there is no leisure. Happily, there is no bliss
And sadly, there is no desolation
Only a period of nothingness – one dare try vindicate me
And show me that there is subsistence,
In the time where you are not with me.
I refute, but still there is no repulsion
And so, with your absolution, you will receive no acquittal
For there is no reason in this feigned raison d’etre
Only loss – the time whereas in blank space,
There is time in a vessel, but no vessel in time
And so moored by a clockwork tether, but still there is no perfection
I find again, that without you – there is no verve
No guffawing crow, no budding tulip
No mauve skies – only tangerine
No breathing moon – only gasping
And no smoldering Sun – freezing in the absence
The absence – your absence.