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Memento
Vertiginously suspended
in my own voracious web,
forage for the silver thread
and find my soul ensnared
and feeding on regrets
Watch my endeavors
metamorphose into a ghost
inside my labyrinthine maps
as I chase the frontier
of the impassable night
and beg to remain undiscovered
under the generous screen
of her jet black locks
defensive and afraid
Sing with my tuned laments
the maddening madhouse of
holiness and obsession
and infuse your own delusion,
Concoct the perfect limbo
that will bear oblivion
and dance along into
my farce tempo
Listen to the sound of
my broken simpers,
my defunct synapses and
my furrowed whispers -
the paradoxical morphing of
my make-believe indifference,
my sedative ebullience
Unwove me with utmost care
Bask under my parasol
the dislimning weather
and abating wanderlust
like a flustered vicissitude
molting skins forever but
never ending for what
had already begun
Like a formless soul
and a dazed sunset
I have nothing grand
like a footprint ashore
constantly washed away
by the leonine water
Muse upon my reflection
ensconced in myriad failures
my memento is a lonely man
painted in vexation from
what went wrong and
who he had become.
poem
by
Norman Santos
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