Each one of our names
Each one of our names
is a word; imbued with
deep meaning. Akin to
the sacred sound, which
broke the eternal silence
of nothingness and begat
the creation of everything.
Each of our names are
memory. Words and
wordlessness which
betray the meaning of
our moments. I could
never be so unkind as to
remove your name from
my story. Only, behind
your teeth I forget my
own name;
or the sound of my voice
when it rolls down your
tongue and lodges my
lost whisper in your throat,
choking you with my timbre
until my old name is changed –
becoming a new sound upon
which I gag. Calling you by
names
you never remember
– or –
names
you always forget.
hauntingly awokened
I open my bedroom window
as day breaks, to allow your
Ghost to escape; as if
this spectre of You
could slip through the screen,
like smoke wafting away to
join the whispered breaths
of this Autumn morning’s new dawn.
How many sunrises
would it take to save me now?
Now that my marrow has grown so cold
and my old battered bones
have frozen into some skeleton
caging a cracking heart. No longer
beating with the passion
that once would dare Destiny
into Dreams so vivid.
Where all future realities
remain haunted by all
the Desires we once imagined
to be true, or to be
falsely accused by a fate
as heavy handed as I
am hard headed,
daydreaming of some distant time
when my blood could pump
warm again; curdling
within these bruised veins.
Until that night falls,
both sleepily and silent
begging us to begin once
again on the other side of the veil...
scott kristopher is a Book Artist and Storyteller from Buffalo, NY. He is also a Barista. In a past life, he was trained to be a disciplined Social Scientist; and in some life before that he was most likely a Baobab Tree...