Liebstod
(“Love’s Death”)
By:
Madison Cole
(© 2008 by the author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's
consent. Comments are appreciated at...
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I stood last night watching lovers
beyond high terrace doors
a curtain of gauze keeping them
unaware of me
the young men made love
on a carpet of green
their bodies moonlit gold and shadowy violet
impassioned sweats of summer
cries of lusts
well-timed
their cries and kisses,
for they were lovers
they knew the things that pleased
tautly muscled
summer bronzed
beautiful
erect
proud
for the while
overcome with
youth's desires
noises came of passion's moments,
groans of sweetest swearing
curses of endearment
of love and lovers
fulfilled and belonging,
ever if for that moment frozen
among their times
of heated lust
and wonderment
thrusts of pain and pleasure joined;
my heart ached
my spine trembled;
my mind spun backward
to an instant of purest clarity
it was
a long ago love
and me
as we were for only
that certain springtime
lost now in memory's mists
and shadows
time's tapestry of
perfect loss
the veil shielding me
from the lovers
is at once
both curtain
and shroud
no longer cloth
but cloud
though love lives on
both times has gone
both the lovers
and mine
it is no more
a dark hot evening
of southern summer
beyond the terrace
but cold and bitter
ice
in a house
toward which I turn
a place with a thousand rooms
all hollow
nameless
soundless
but for my single footsteps
the dwelling remains dark
with
ferment and regret
I turn again to the pair
to invoke my
autumn's benediction
but they, of course, are gone
for no longer is it
a summer of sweat
and forbidden breezes
it is winter now
cold winds have come
I stand alone
a perfect snowflake is all
that kisses my cheek
and I realize at last
the seasons are altogether
… over …
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Posted: 07/11/08