prodigal flame

you changed,
it had been long
long time...
that prince
with flowing black locks now
grey
and fat
and forty


yet
the sound of your voice
gives you away
behind those dark glasses
beard,
the uncertain recognition,
(you were always too proud
for embarrassment).


My stomach leaps
mind peaks,
breath aches to shout
something as yet indefinable
still
i bleed
as i bled...
lifes a slow-leak of
inexorable fact,
our sketched past
is a memory-rock
over which we flow and
now, as such,
a series of events
looking for the
window to fly out of,
(like the dream that it is),
trees wave over us -
the bed of our ideals
unmade
i am lost still
wondering at you.


things hang in a balance
the violin string vibrates -
stilling an instant
and our eyes too briefly meet
in my dreams
which have started again
you are walking through them
as you did then
with the unspoken crescendo,
the palpable magic in between

(was any of it real?)

you seem ...
cracked
and i was
so
broken back then

( was any of it real?!?)

dare i believe
dum spiro, spero -
dare i not believe?