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Words: Jessika Malo
Image: Elizabeth S. Gilliam Hedgepath
Nothing mourns you here,
So go back to where you came from.
Nothing says you’re to be blamed
So nothing bears your stain.
Even the mattress stayed rigid,
It did not bother itself to tweak its body for you,
For the corpse of the man who would come and go,
Unannounced by the air around him.
As if you’ve not touched a thing,
The dust’s spiral dance uninterrupted,
The body intact, the memory clear;
But from a distant noise of a maybe.
Didn’t you hear me the first time,
Nothing says you’re to blame
Nothing shall bear your stain.
Of a shadow of man with a punctured heart
Who have come and gone unsettled,
And with him the world unchanged,
Still wild and untamed.
Nothing mourns you here my dear
Nothing, not even a stain…
My hesitance of a maybe,
Of a secret visit from the man who comes and goes
With his heart punctured all the same,
Unsettling even the dance of the dust,
Adding a remote noise of a maybe.
Of a shadow I read about or heard of
That I imagined or called upon,
That knows nothing more than interrupting my world with a maybe;
That cannot survive the dance of dust upon it.
#Unreal #Poetry #JessikaMalo #Photography #ElizabethGilliamHedgepath #Impermanence #Unattachment #Love
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