Fabrice Poussin, 2 poems
Hand on the cold blue steel
too late the thought came to stop
already the burning mixed with the soul
he rested at last on the old Persian.
Particles of dust, cheating the many cells
she numbed an unreal aching
now she dreams as she takes flight
leaving those young bones behind.
Dueling with an embattled self
he took the aim of a butcher friend
cutting and slicing through and through
cold as ice the thin sheet erased a story.
Inhaling all a living world dared to share
they lay in lone embrace under the shroud
as in a vacuum, their chests contracted
in a final song, unison of their eternal melody.
Eternity in a Vise
I remember you from another time
I was so much like you then
waiting the grand opportunity
to come along, to walk beside you.
I can still imagine the place
though undefined it was in the spheres
a bed of clouds and sweet nectar
it was just a matter of when.
A speck in the universe was you
no larger was I then
hovering electron of light
I saw you in your little black dress.
Insignificant in a world of giants
we moved along with the waves of creation
parallel until finally we met
in a never-ending explosion of senses.
And now we hold eternity in a vise
on the infinite path traced for us
I will not forget the first time I saw you
and dreamed of you in that little black dress.