Fading Letters
Tonight, like many a more
I unfolded your letters
tucked beside my bed
castrated of its fragrance
in every contour flailing,
every eloquence rising,
I found you - enveloped in sunshine
skimming through
the phosphorescent sand
like a lucid lullaby
I saddled back to Levanther
of exchanged letters -
your frail façade glassy
from dancing behind your eyes,
your words like beacons:
a lighthouse in a sea
coruscating with a song
in a night where I sink
underneath its storm,
and the holiday you've sealed
for all the miles, the oceans
and plastered maladies
slithering in the crevasses
of our fondled affinity
In a deterred dream of blue
I reckon you, palms opened
like waiting windows
your moony eyes amicably evocated
the lost and sequestered beads
spread against the firmament
like gargoyles bemusing the demise
gnawing on my cold skin
untouched by the silky moon
or the arrogant sun's maw,
listening inside the cage
where the conch's susurrations
echoed like the melody
that you've taught me
then and now
in dissimilar pedagogies
The hymn that enthuses
the yarns to elope and extend
spun like a maudlin
an engineering arachnid,
indulgently succumbing
as subtle as a
fluorescent light's droning
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poem by Norman Santos
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