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Monday, 30 September 2013 13:34


Not yours
Not your vows
To love and be loved
You’re the third subject
You have no place here
You wear no matching band
I march to my own accord
I will dance to what I like
I can behold who is kind
I have love to give,
          my place is here
I love, he loves
Promises are built to break
A frame that frail will fail to hold
It will fold and its seal lifted,
The attachment redirected
Vows are only words, you see
And words hold no bond
It’s in the look he gives me
It’s in the lies he tells her
But he promised her forever
He holds her too
He cherishes her more than you
You never heard him say
When it was only us two
Sharing the still of the dark
Exchanging promises
Exchanging ambitions to build our own
We whispered and weaved
I broke nothing
Yes, but you were not there
You never watched her walk down the aisle
They, too, whispered and exchanged
You were not there
You do not understand
Love dances, it alters
Just as the seasons
Awe is autumn’s falling leaf
You should see it fall—carelessly
It leaks through the air—deliberately

Leaves are shy in the face of violence

Listen: the mightiest tree cannot hold on forever

It is the root of the word we're unburying
Not the seasons that alteration finds

If words are buried, below and beneath
Are they then not a dead and non-existent thing?
Autumn taunts the dead awake. Shaken roots
          breathing ghosts that leak as leaves
Anyway, it was never my wish to be there
But their vows—
People speak worthless things
Why script in stone? The dust will settle
And your testament will vanish
Careless things, careless beings
Why won’t you see?
See what?
Wilted ghosts, wasted words?

I, am only morality's keeper

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Lucinda de Leeuw

 Some things are rituals.  And they are binding.

Website: lucinda-notebook.blogspot.com/
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