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Autumn
By
Elliotlacey31

Autumn

Tags: love, poem

Take these aching muscles,
the cold filling my bones,
the stillness flooding every night I lay alone
and chart the burning constellations above.

My frame turns to crackling sheets of ice without you,
when they finally tremble,
the breaking will sound like your name
thundering through me.

And if names are nothing more than
loving prayers leaving our lips,
familiar incantations only made for one specific being,
I could spend forever calling out to you,
reaching for the soft unique canvas of your skin.

No matter how much it hurts,
I want the last touch we shared to haunt me,
before I turn to stone and let no one else in,
until you come back to keep or shatter me
for the very last time into remnants
that will scatter in the wind.

Either way, you'll be the only one
who will know what's really inside me.

Take these layers of dust,
the cold rivers filling my bones,
the stillness sweeping over every night I lay alone
and chart the lights clinging to the autumn sky.

My frame does not know how to
move without the music your voice makes,
when the notes finally arrive,
the song will sound like your love
roaring through me.

And if voices are nothing more than melodies
and the familiar hymns of close heartbeats
leaving bodies to seek one specific being,
I could spend forever looking for you,
reaching out for the soft unique cadence of your whisper.

No matter how much it unfolds time,
I want the last moment we joined to haunt me,
before I let the dark fold over me
and let no other light in until you return
to strike a spark or snuff me out for the very last time 
into the final trail of smoke from a blown out candle.

Either way, you'll be the only one
who will know what's really inside me.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than storiesspace.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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