Ophelia

Blue Lake, outside Wendover Nevada/ Photo by the author

(For Brent, omnipresent in my heart)

If ever you leave me
I will go down to the lonely edge
Of water
Where the day and night meet
In unwatched embrace
And I too will embrace the water

My face to the sky
I see not sun
My back to the depths
No limb finds rest or rescue
My eyes open to the clouds
They see nothing beautiful
My blood settles
In my veins
There is no breath
To fuel my battered heart

I cannot breathe
When you leave the room
I hold my breath
And wish the Gods had not
Granted you free will
How terrible is freedom
And how daunting
The changes of the seasons

I warned you
Of my intemperance
Sweeping in like the blustery days
Of Fall
Covering the mountains
With a penetrating chill
This is what happens
When you leave me alone
The flame is deprived of oxygen
Lungs of breath

How I am drawn
To water
And fear cannot placate me
My greater fear is the absence
Of your flesh
Your brawny legs
Thighs built like monoliths

To be alone and strangled
Between those thighs
I would condemn my soul
To everlasting purgatory
Never fearing God's displeasure

If you ever leave me
I will go down
To the very bottom
And never come up again
For air
And when they find
My body
Wet and disheveled
And without life
They will say that in the end
I could not be deprived
Of your life in my lover's veins

I Sat Near A Stream

Fall leaves give way to Galena Creek, Reno, Nevada/ Photo by the author

I sat near a stream
To see where your love
Would take me.
The trickle of cool water
Carried me away
From the frantic heat
Of a mid day sun
Set high in the empty sky.

You flow with the clouds,
Away and beyond my grasp,
Though once I languished
In your bed
Even long after the sun
Captured the innocent sky.

Tender leaves, falling
Blue-bellied birds, calling
The pallid moon, never falling
Asleep in my waking dreams.

I sat near your coffin
Awaiting your return
To life;
Your chest to rise and fall,
The love in your voice
To call.
But the Summer sun faded
Before my very eyes,
The rising crescent moon
Smitten by midnight skies.

How short are the Winter days
You left behind,
Your hot lips a memory
I have jealously locked away.
The eager pleasure of your
Hard body,
Staying green in the field
Of my abundant memories,
Though the touch of your hands
Has faded, never again.

I sat near a stream
To see where my life would ebb,
How many breaths could I take
Beneath the water
Filling my lungs
With liquid slumber
Like a baby in my mother's womb.

Will the empty sky miss me,
The earth taste my still fair flesh?
How long will the waters flow
Without me,
Once my soul is flying high?