Citatepedia^®.com

Severance, With Veering Hands

The languid nimbuses amplified
the grass bugs under an ocher sunset
and their metallic sirens wailed
for nostalgia with veering hands
and it revved like a highway
and haunted like taillights

The maladroit afternoons strangled
in yellow haze and cigarette lace
dawned again, with waning iridescence
and a blinding severance cleaving
from the stark light of veracity
in the equipoise of day and night
your figure sank dithering

One hundred forty nine dismal days
exhumed the antebellum bones
and hoarded them in the closet
to thwart the besieging of time and change

The emollient influx cloys the somnolence
with a sweet pang from the drudgery
but by this window pane, you still remain
sauntering back and forth my alleyways

You hold my breath, you engulf my silence
Days become a metronomic deadweight
encumbering the flyleaf to flay for amends
and in the insatiable stagnancy
I remember the stride, the long haul,
and amongst these far-fetched visions
I remember you and our perdition
that peppered this willowy gust of morose
with the brusqueness of squalor

In this seamless, bleak pensiveness
our loose threads knitted themselves
mantling me in a velvet luster
with a mendaciloquent verve
drowning in the depths of its veneer
like how I bask in this unreality.

poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!