Poem – “When the Beloved takes Her Breath” – Romance – 11/26/2019

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When the beloved takes her breath,
When the beloved oversees death
And its wilted form,
It is me, she’s placed her eyes upon,
For one more caress on the road
Towards distant rivers
Where tears fall at even greater length.
And among the house of screams,
A thousand-and-one of them,
There is her gentle placement,
Of one thin finger,
Against my lips.

I have been in service to death,
Since my birth.
She has been in service to her shame,
For my life.
My life releases a breath that is cold and weighty,
Alike how a mother may sigh,
Or how a father may cry
Over the death of a beaten child.

Lame and shameful,
Is her place among myself.
The beauty, the beloved, and the woman who weeps,
To the sight of one solitary man,
Who has a side to him,
That will not twitch, will not quiver

Unless she places that finger
Against my lips.

Sickness is a Hell I live among,
And her Heaven is a world I search within.