The Quietus

                     Picture: The Lovers II by Rene Magritte

Each breath expended
in living your dreams
could buy me the trifle
they call life.

But I think I'd rather
be broke than
choke my love
for you.

Yes, I've this silence
that you believe
shall save me.
What have I
save this silence?

I ascribe the reserve
to your care.
Or is it your death?
Or is it that you
mourn for me?

They raised a toast
to love tonight.
What do I care?
I've had my share
of pine-ing...
ing-ing-ing-
Bah.

I'll spend my nights
guzzling sounds
that could have been.

I'll scavenge leftovers
from memories
that have succumbed.

I'll have the whirlpool
walk to you.
And I'll waltz through it
when you call me.

Will you call me then?