What is in that look you wore?
Je ne sais pas, I don't know.
C'est vide...what is left?
The wind of loss rips you out of me.
But what is left if not you in my soul?
What is left when I have to look back
To see us and were you ever here
Or was it only ever me?
.
You are dead.
And I live on.
.
But this scar on my hand,
The way I grip the echo of you in my mind,
C'est réel. C'est vrai.
It is real to me the way you move and live
In each cell of my soul.
I can feel the silk of you wrap the hurt
In its arms, heal the gap laid bare.
Will you, will I, will we come back from this?
.
You were my star and I some lost moon.
Or were you the pale moon rosy on the line amid
Air and soil and I the sun of day?
Yes, you were my moon and now...
Ma lune est...dead.
You sunk into the dirt, wood cage to keep you safe.
But this love can't die, can't fail or fall or rot.
.
I made a home in the grey haze
Atop the rock with your name.
This love is a vast sort of love that runs
As far as the sky, as deep as the seas.
I will turn to bone with the tree that rots
But I have made my home by you and I will stay
Till time has run out at last.
.
Nathalie Daux
.
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Writer of the dark! Think of it like flipping rocks, the weird little stories underneath are my jam and jelly. Jam and butter? Just jam. Absolutely no use of AI in any of my works :)
Ah, also:
Tiktok/Insta: harbingerofsnake
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