Anthony Thalestris

Infrared - Poem by Anthony Thalestris

This lacuna madness, lunar exile, ribbon dream haunting days unseen.
Adrift and unraveling in time.
Lonely cigarette in the falling snow,
smoke and freezing breath, singular vapourish shapes, twisting together in the icy twilight.
Pearly quietude.
Watching black birds flap across fields between the winter remains of trees.

Alone, moored on the foam flecked tideline, the mountains eclipsing the noontide moon.
Feverfew waxing wild in fathoms old, echo this echo,
blowing unworldly and irredeemable as one.
We two, torn from arm in arm to furthermost distant star.
Once alive in high summer immutable world without end, now
slipping ciphered to burning neverness.

This repining mind falling lost, tracing sinful curls of black fire, sea green eyes.
Flames of purience, elvish face starred with flowers.
Prophets of untold worlds, barefoot girl-child dressed
in silken coat of seven kings.
Hell-born, unforgivable, dark desire. A frock coat,
sundress lust-child, chasing a dragon around the moon.

Burning the soul one day at a time, breaking and dreaming the flesh,
all the while rain streaking across windows, water bubbling from gutters.
Future time hanging in the jagged edged, brooding sky.
We are the ghost flowers falling to decay.
But we are beyond concern, we are inexistent, semilunar,
far from our waking moment of distraction.

The sea that separates us, will hold us together today, isochronous, on the beat.
Revelation before reason, born from past and future, ourselves a legend.
Countless dreaming nostalgias of this medieval citadel,
morning chrysanthemum mist.
Dreams of a darker colour, jewels from the hands of queens,
shadow the rooms where we lie. Cherry in mouth. Dreaming.

We are the wraith flowers, like sorrows dressed for the journey.
We shall become shooting stars, like poppies falling, edged with burning fire,
misremembered, like quicksilver clouds in eternally dying afternoons,
falling into black seas, black seas falling upon forgotten shores.
In vanished eyes.
My soul will watch from the edge of eternity rising,
and this time will be your time, once time.
Your memories on your eyes, dreaming in starless black.
Searching upon these days
until the world's end does circle us together again.

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, August 21, 2010

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