Poetry: The Beginning of Us

what was it that you said on Monday mornings with a smile
dashed upon your lips like powdered sugar in denial
while tempests thundered at your mind and whispered all the while
the long-forgotten mysteries of freedom from the aisle

what was it that you muttered at the pock-marked moon at dawn
that bounded through the stars from Arctic swells to Avalon
and when it reached the ears of gods long thought dead and gone
roused them from their slumber, angry—arrogance in song

what was it that you wrote in ink as black as night in gloom
that signaled to your followers the end was coming soon
and wrestled with despair while human hearts succumbed to blooms
of roots as dark as souls departed from the Earth at noon

what was it that you dared to whisper in my ear at night
that totaled our relationship in seconds of pure fright
and tore the doors of dungeons down and freed the shadowed blights
ending our beginning like the nova ends the light

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