plato’s would

we are all leaving

including her

who said she’d always remain

by your side

until nothing is left

which is here now

greeting you in soft openness

that only a lover would

know

*

am i awake

because i am

still sleeping beside you

in your dreams

or because

i am not

*

it’s love

or

it’s lore

for

you lift me

before

you left me

*

how much more how

do you need to to

until it starts making it it

and less of an end made

in the unmaking of you

*

old trees whisper

spring songs

in a language that i do not recognize

for i am still looking for

the colour of the leaves

that have long since fallen

into a winter that few warm to

and even less

survive with feet tripping

on the roots of

old trees whimpering

to be chopped alive

into an allegory of the cave

that burns

shadows into the night