The Unspeakable

as the words float around our heads
at some level, meaningless
i close my eyes, behind my mind
and listen to the real conversation

in the background: a requeim
to the ghost never laid to rest;
the child we miscarried,
but bore always.

i watch a piece of me, detached,
flutter in the skies with joy.
at home again,
that's the me which was urs.

and in the foreground,
swinging back and forth between
formal and a little less.

by leaping hearts,
and peace
and a link unseen

all that we had once had been
all we'd dreamed of being
every moment we'd ever held
and let go without weighing

and everytime we'd stumbled in the dark
to tumble into the refuge of the other
and then, putting it aside,
carried on with life

and every death since then
and every wound since then
and every drop of blood ...
plays unheard, unseen in the background

and we say nothing at all
was us as unbreakable as we were?

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