Poem – “Of Great Ruins that Bleed” – Romanticism – 2/14/2021

Hoping
For small sign of a fossil
When your eyes were buried,
Where your clothes were scattered,
While your bandages were bloodied.
A torn raven’s feather
Lays upon my fractured shoulder
Likening to the fog that mounts
To the coldest sadness.

Face your small nest
Of loss,
Where ocean after heavy ocean
Can weigh more your eyes
Than your heart,
Than your soul.

Feed your fire
The stains you dispose of,
When the moon drinks desire,
When faces can carry thorns,
While endless hours can scurry on
To a chapter, lain frozen.

I heal features
With the pebbles of softness.
Stoned by rows of molten disuse
At the bottommost
Of each history remembered,
When forgotten.