Eric Schuurman, 1985
I cannot forget your ghostly face in the rain.
The bead of moisture that fell on your breast and the stain.
The smell of your collar in our first lingering embrace
fills my senses as gravity beckons my body from space.
Look up there! It’s our love.
Bursts orange and Splinters in the blue.
You brought it down – it was our love –
and changed everything I thought I knew.
Now all of the metal is twisted and ready to cut.
The frame of this door is distorted and hopelessly shut.
The windows are shattered like icicle dreams – I can’t see.
The thing that’s occurred has made this place unknown to me.
Look up there! It’s our love.
Bursts orange and Splinters in the blue.
You brought it down – it was our love –
and changed everything I thought I knew.
Now, all of the unseen eyes straining to see,
and all of the prayers like paper planes flying past me,
all of the breaths held haven’t much longer to wait
for a graceful arch and a spin to a brittle fate.
I cannot help to not be a little surprised
at the look of astonishment I now see in your eyes.
My chrysalis falls to the ground and everyone sees
as my butterfly soul flutters into a mild autumn breeze.
Look up there! It’s our love.
Bursts orange and Splinters in the blue.
You brought it down – it was our love –
and changed everything I thought I knew.
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