terrace

in the darkening summer light
grey in memory and in sight

your books stacked, fuming
these heady – looming
how with your beautiful words
that you do not share
with your grimace of equanimity

a shadow forever beset ye
mycelium crept in part and whole

[you are now a part
forever of my subconscious
indelible inky cap]

may I never pry the secrets from your unwitting clench?

may I never come home to you again?

you are the warm earthen blanket I draw
over me when I will fight no more

I will forget your smell
before I forget the scratch of your warm woolen breast

my brother death, my late husband,
the absent professor, forever observant
is there nothing I can do to help ye?

do you not want my comfort?

somehow forever escaping each other

what am I to do with the electromagnetic
insipid inspiration…?

[I cannot love you, bind to you, as you are bound to this place.
This horrid, damp and darkened place
Where I am sad and stretched
slack and sleepy]

[You, who finds his mother in the damp grey bosom
of the duff and the faraway mountain skies]

Your mystic | faded eyes.

I need more atoms.
Make a molecule
that can take part in the revolution