by Miriam Calleja
My memory of you is better than you
Rose-tinted heart-shaped
Wine-fueled
Mad…ness
Running through the streets drunk and laughing
You could barely catch up with me
You – the matchstick to my fire
Inflamed by proximity
You – whose dullness by day was musical in nature
But silent
My fire doused in yours and dancing
In my living room drove a hole in the ground
Awake, walking out of the sea
On summer solstice
The problems of immortals sliding down my skin
I could barely hold your head in my hands –
It was so large and heavy like stone
With a thousand poems inside
And a thousand drunks
How could I ever expect to hold you in my life?
- Share this Poem:
ABOUT THE POET ~
A 1982 girl from Malta who has a passion for words. Some of the poems beg to be written at 4 a.m, others slide into her consciousness and nag for days before being released in their rightful order. Others still join hands with other poems to form stories and performances., "I'd like to retrace the steps of our dysrhythmic tango..."
Last updated October 15, 2014