Still
Here in
Atlantis,
Mother of pearls.
Iridescent; being pregnant with light,
A world rebuilding - waiting to hold you.
Resurfacing:
Sea the sun,
Finding
Home.

What is like being with you
when you are not around anymore?
- you may never ask.
And I might leave this unanswered, too.
You are still outshining me, you know,
so I have to go dark,
before becoming completely transparent;
coming clean, before all get unclean.
For starting the fire and finish it,
are two different kinds of things.

From the sea of smoking souls
I am parted to emerge,
imbuing by aether silk;
the space of your sound.

Melody.
Familiar strange.
Our music sheet.
Full of suicide notes.
Requiem.

Staring into the abyss
knowing our sunken paradise lies there
like a black hole of the universe;
a void beneath the eternity.

Between sky and city
it's just me - alone,
caught by the memory lane,
for still hiding an angel inside,
the lost shadow of you

A handful of years ago,
from the Light, appeared the Dark.
And then, a flashback meant no fallback;
for the reality of yours became
more desirable than my fantasy.
I was wasted but not spoiled, though,
I have already made my peace
with the void of you,
for all I need now
is not your parts
but my own wholeness:
a structure in the flesh.

Once in a blue moon.
being blue in the blue hour, and then:
'**** it to blue blazes!' - out of the blue,
one may be just out of the blues.

For the true blue feeling gone,
walking away into the wide blue yonder.
leaving nothing but the blue devils themselves
who just keep on talking a blue streak
till one gets into a blue funk.

Like blue blazes, black-and-blue again
one gets stuck in one's own blue chamber
between the devil and the deep blue sea,
being blue around the gills,
keep on listening to the blue note
over and over again.