Lacrimae Rerum // Tears For Things
-Virgil, Aeneid, 1.461
Face more shadow than skin,
Cohesive in that one dream
On his balcony with the actor never been tension but?
She pierces his ear we didn't nnnnnnot share the bed
actor yawns chalk down my tongue it all laughs laughs
Too far from the river plus can’t leave now be at X before a.m. or else pay cover once inside I vertical desire
wash it down pulled the hoodie there sitting breathing much too slow we’re the sameWe’re wayyyyyyyErrant wonderland. Antagonist now I see it
Death Dream
Wet iron gate, wet iron gate
Wet iron fence, stretched iron bracelet
remedy last song resting
it’s awful, it’s ebbing
that gate opens, the long one hides.
This era, if it wasn’t brought by us,
but it would be brought by us. It’s pressure.
I was in the stone house before it saw me here
last minutes in the dark sun.
On the table in the red mug
iron in the water
that I pour you.
Grey light, I see grey light
In an ancient house made of iron weapons I would have latched the doors shut through the morning. I’d pour cream into the jug, I’d leave it steaming on the window
Earthen ailments on the grasses I rest my boots on.
Latched the gate this morning, though it did screech from the rust.
Your brick chimney plumes smoke as I wave across the pasture
stretched bloodied bracelet that you made me.
It’s nothing, it’s history
Here inside my stone house
what I offer doesn’t listen
I slow, these things grow older.
When the gate moans, then I know I was fully here
Tomorrow morning,
you toss the plaid blanket to the floor
Before I’m up, you unlatch the door
As I leave, the streets are empty
I was never fully there. I’m wandering.
I find the long gate many times
It grows red with red, with rust
It’s bending, it’s dying
If one day I find the end, I promise I will open
But as I walk, my hands on its sodden rungs,
I fear I don’t know that I will see.
My glasses grow thicker
as my vision warps with age
Kiss me, I hope you kiss me, from across the pasture where you wave
I was just starting to feel at home here.
It’s nothing. I’m searching.
In my memory, you're everywhere.
Spin
At the center, past centripetal thresholds,
your resin reconstitutes.
The ripple sounds everywhere
loud, finally. Warm for the first time since I met you.
Train Chapter
Love,
Maggie x
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© 2022 Maggie Gerber
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