[written after visiting gloucester cathedral, and hearing an all-too familiar voice…]
i go for months without thinking of you
and then there you are
and again
against my will
i want you.
seduced by a memory
of space and time
redolent with whispered secrets
and ancient prayers,
certainty and promise:
i’m yours
i hear my echo
bend me
break me.
familiarity enfolds me
in a tissue-thin layer
of endearments and nostalgia,
wrapping a once-full box of promises
with the gift already taken.
i know myself here
but it’s not a self i want to know.
This is the power
of old lovers and gods
made from a time
i was naked before you
whispering my dreams
fears
tears
hopes
into a space
i did not know was unsafe.
i wrap myself tight against the memories.
i will not let them be enough.
ben
Cheryl