Resting His Head On Her Tombstone

I still want to hear
I still want to know
I still want to cuddle
To talk in the dark

I still want to be with you
I am still always here
I am afraid of moving
I am yours, to be as you wish me

—I hear you.

I feel cold and should go
I feel silent inside
I feel distance and time
I feel the world’s indifference

—I’m sorry you feel isolated and lonely

We used to walk here
We used to hold hands
We used to feel warmth
We used to know with certainty

We once merged
We once kissed
We once touched skin
Once is always yes but

—I know I affect you

Once is gone, it’s late,
I must choose parting again
Or join you in cold silence

Stone absorbs tears
Leaves mineral crystals
Dissolved in rain

Blood stains stone
Leaves forensic traces
Invisible in sun.
/// /// ///

About Gene Stewart

Born 7 Feb 1958 Altoona, PA, USA Married 1980 Three sons, grown Have lived in Japan, Germany, all over US Currently in Nebraska I write, paint, play guitar Read widely Wide taste in music, movies Wide range of interests Hate god yap Humanist, Rationalist, Fortean Love the eerie
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.