The Catalyst

Here lies the sugarless truth.
I painted a new branch
on the lifeline
of your palm.
Invisible ink but
it is still etched, Beloved.
It was not my intention
to cherish you
within an inch
of your life…
Now,
a silent chant
emanates from
the drizzly November
of my soul.
I hung there,
in the heart of your ears
but you went mute, deaf…
on that strange day.
Better to pivot,
in a colorless direction.
I cannot look upon such beauty
I once knew.
These days I see better
with my eyes closed.
Besides,
what good is a lover
if he can’t kiss
the nape of that place
few could see
through
the eyes’ windows.
So what is left?
But to gather
the jagged pieces
and forget
the clamor it made
when the world
caved in.