Your lips stretch around each sound
I can't hear the words, only the sound of your voice
I could sit for hours, outside time, just you
Watching you speak, feeling your leg against mine
You are near me, I feel as though I cannot breathe
From the moment you walked towards me
Nervous, awkward, unsure but wonderful
Your pale blue gaze fixed me to you
I am entirely mesmerised
I sit at the table, furiously drinking coffee and staring at the screen
Thinking about the perils of words
Words, what are words, when they only flow one way
Waiting always waiting
Always on the side of insane, never refrain
Why do the patterns remain?
The only sound is the ticking of my brain
When does it begin?
Lost forever in this aching space
Somewhere yet nowhere
Will true smiles ever return to my face?
The infinite moment is breached by a sound
I’ve heard it before
The message is wanted but never found
Sometimes when the waiting vaguely ends
In that time space, the sound almost plays to my desire
But only enough to cause the path to bend
The direction remains
How ever did it come to now?
When will my thoughts come to mend to a different story?
Did I ever allow this shapeless path, with endless perils?
The path has taken over, the end is sometimes forgotten
Yet the journey is still mine
I walk the road but something else makes the choices
The endless anticipation of a sign, that never arrives
Desire is replaced with despair, then despair with emptiness
I must attempt a rescue but is it too late?
From the telephone by Florence Ripley Mastin
This is a rather magical poem by Florence Ripley Mastin. It is poems like this that make me realise I've a long way to go before I can write so beautifully. Her words. Such emotion. Your voice broke like a flower. Sigh.
Out of the dark cup
Your voice broke like a flower.
It trembled, swaying on its taut stem.
The caress in its touch
Made my eyes close.