“If You Were Me”


“If You Were Me”

If you were me, you’d easily see
What bitter mead I taste when I must be with you; pernicious seeds
And, yes, if then within a single stroke the artery that  cedes
The conversation’s sovereignty bleeds, I prefer to feel no consolation weaned
From what and who you are within me. Safely resting, I am silent, halves
Of us dropped from either follow just as surely as the flesh to feed the worm
When once and twice again we leave volition fast asleep along with shoes
…in the other room placed neatly by the door. The unified germ–
The healing talisman, the extreme unction of a lifetime, sacred salves
That penetrate visions seen within and far beyond our darkened eyes
Assume a single station here–and so the pattern’s set,
And I am left in time with pressing harvests, bins of useless labours, wastes
Of stubble, ploughed yet fallow fields whose worth is paralysed
And even lionised in memories of former truths so compromised:
The spirit cannot die but sacrifice to earthly temples comes as no surprise.

…painting by Ventzislav Piriankov


2 responses to ““If You Were Me”

  1. If you were me… hooked from the first line to the last… xx

    • Yes, well, if the truth were known, can you imagine what any of our friends would make of it, never mind whatever enemies we may have?…

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