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““DEAR HEART, HOW LIKE YOU THIS?””

<a href="https://pixabay.com/en/mummy-dark-red-night-darkness-2677036/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Source</a>

What else but trouble when the night returns

in endless weary ecstasy of memories

that pale the skin, touch the heart

with something less? It never has been

then but now in knowledgeless travelling

within and out of those most intricate moments

the whispered yeses once

weary to ask

when sweeping leaves Rome chokes and works

fever of fumes and journalism, kiosks and sirens,

weary to ask already answered over desolate spaces

when night returns in weary endless ecstasy

of memories, minuets, gavottes,

such lovely faces, “once in special,

In thin array”.

Time takes its toll

whispers of love in forgotten places

Rome’s dead cats

and looking there we saw Rome’s Colosseum

smelling of urine.

What else but trouble when the night returns

in endless weary ecstasy of memory?

<a href="https://pixabay.com/en/the-death-lovos-fear-death-2527827/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Source</a>

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Legend

Written by Jonathan Finch

Years Of MembershipStory MakerContent Author

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