There is…

There is a skin the sky bears when I am lost
it carries the color of wishes
the sound of rippling rains
sometimes I pray it performs absolutions
of joy
so I figure out the word love spells backwards.
There is a beginning I never tell
sad long hoops of diverging tales
inside it you will find skeletons, and closets and fire
but within the wool of the fire you will find a heartbeat
that sings the same song my silence does.
There is this end I envy
where the earth does not burn its name in Hell
within the remnants of we–time travelers
will you find stale pauses and forgotten blurs
of memories unsung,
of love that was sour.

Ruddapoet