The Language Of Cut Jewels Poem by Harlequin Rose

We surfaced, breathless
back to back
from the distance we pushed away from
we return to these margins
they are narrow like these hours
in the night
the moonlight splashes a pattern
in my eyes
and for a moment I am blind
the silliness goes away
this carnival that has become on memory
where we illustrate
the turbulence of cut jewels
sharp
unforgiving
I cannot allow this to continue
for ours is a lost language
but what lovers we were
when you trusted me
like the scent of a honeydew melon
in the open breeze
I will be the story you tell
with pages that show their gold
on one side
their arrogance is reminiscent of what isn't
language dies here, love
while we push against the posturing wind
lets take the chance and walk away
and find our old elegance
of the inarticulate again.