Paying the Bill
Paying The Bill
You may come to this some day
It may issue from nowhere
A moment un-strident
A loose flagging half remembrance
Something which neither carries
Nor contains
But a fickle shadow
Thin and as meaningless with an empty whimper
Not to enlighten or to comfort
It will seep from you
As if a blank half tactile memory
Has produced a languid thud
Which lays in your chest a solitary clue
To nothing
Not to carry you high
No
Nor to crystallise some point or thought in time
Yes, nor to strip or burn with poignancy
But to hang in immobility’s slaughtered
Indefinable by its eclipse
Not cold, neither warm
As it surges through your blood
Yes
You may come to this
Which does not ache or grip
Yet sinks through a festering
hangs between a single drip of life
It will not betray or illuminate
So
Where came from its to rip
Without hope or hopelessness
For its ballad is sung by no one
And you may shutter your eye in half a dream
And love will come to you eventually
For it will hang in your throat unspoken
While the jagged cushion molests
So the bones without vacant marrow
May sequester what is left
Hand over hand but empty
Starving to death with everything
Yes
You may come to this
And your eye and your smile
Along with your heart and soul
Will know gratitude
Such is tormented will not release
Go to breaking
Stand, fall or simply give in
It does not require such or to give you so much
Other than the husk of its dreaming
The petals in your hands are tears
The broken shell in your heart dares you
To amount to this
Not vengeful, or supplicant
Lays unperturbed by your diffidence
Slamming on the icicle
Knuckles white between the heat of your blood
And yes
You may come to this
It will deny you
It will not hold you
Hold you through a promise
Cutting the chord between you
Open lipped in an assassins kiss
Sneaking like a plague
Through each and every single day
Love will come
Somehow
Someway
So torn apart have you ever been
So buried or so lost
As when love demands
On a platter of silver that you pay the bill
Remain hungry
My friend
Do not succumb or give in to delusion
The sloth of your soul carries no burden
And love does not care for your heart
You have picked an epiphany
A story, a tale which promises everything
It does not invite your sallow complexion
Yet each day it swallows the wine
Dear love, dear sweet love so all is my love
For you my love
My only love
My one true love
And yes
One might say
That one day
You will come to this
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