WHITE LOSS

 
Symphony of molten tears
steam and crackle and hiss
hint at what is not to be;
never to be; had always been.

White time. White dreams.
White seas of grief. White
ashes in my funereal feet;
white pain between my eyes.
The slow steady drizzle
of prayer a riot of white
on white, a buzz of loss
around your lifeless form.

The single diamond dancing
past our sunset eyes and down;
weaves despair into wishes
into loss into love into pain;
into the long drawn scars
that sleep in yesterday.
Say my name once more
in your faded colourless voice.
Call me once more and
this time I will come.