Let silence speak for itself like a birthday party (a series of poetry)

This daughter has grit
And brick walls and all
A solitary moon
In all her feverish anticipation
Waiting upon the machine
And those ancestors.
Why do I suffer in relationships?
There’s a darkness within me
There’s a darkness within you
I don’t take kindly to your jokes
Nor the endless possibility
In your voice and the masterpiece

That is your world
Your splintered home
At the end of the world
Let silence speak for itself like a birthday
Grief is only a warning. Denial too.
I need to find out why the brightness dies
And the flowers heads. Every one.
These winter branches are mine
The anniversary of this winter
Is also mine. My mute grief
Over every black leaf is mine
We have captured our lungs for eternity

I need to see you in a photograph
I need to see you painted
In oils and watercolours
There’s the existence of faith
And pure hope as I take you in my arms
To have and to hold
From this day forward
Jubilant is the trumpet and saxophone
All their rituals have logic
This landscape was fashioned by a gardener
I stand mute at the edge of the lake
The gorgeous lake’s mouth

Is full of jewelled water
Wind drifts like driftwood
The weight of water is inescapable
What is human? This stain
Is human. What is beautiful?
Eyes and this ordinary madness.
What captures the light?
Klimt. Is it injustice? Sickness?
The right and the wronged?
There’s too much earth and world
In the desire that we have for each other
This letter is meant out of love.

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