Without Mythologies

A soft breeze

With the slippery concrete black and full of muddy slush

Contrasting with the hoarfrost, clean and hung

On a tunnel of silent shivering trees

The ones you said you'd like to be

And the birds that screamed at the sun

Now buried deep below the ground

Beneath the snow, I press my shoulder to this wall between us

I know you are behind me and I press my shoulder to this wall

Determined not to turn around

I do and see you standing

Still that statue that I moulded in my mind to kiss

So beautiful you'll never move again

Someplace far away

At some sad table littered with chipped plates

With bad light in 48 frames from a movie on the cutting room floor

You said, "True meaning would be dying with you"

And though I wanted to, I did not smile

But now I will give up on this wall that I have fought with

Never uncover meaning behind our rich words

If I could I would make you a raging river

With angry rapids supplied with rain

So you could always meander

And forever be able to run away

Without contending

With myths wrongly interpreted

With pain

A harsh wind

A harsh wind