As If Never To Return Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Fluttering to the distance of the light –

In years, in breadth, in height,

The way the stars are embossed in the sky,

And yet, as if millions of eyes stare from the distance

I will have to put in words how, you have left

Without a vestige to place buoyant planes

Across a sea of misfortune, of desolation

-

In a lonely station, perhaps as lonely

As a sleeping train at night, crestfallen,

There I am, by the bench where the tickets

And the leaves rustle like fingers upon hands

And fingertips upon the cold concrete floor –

There, I sit – undulating like ripples of blood

That curdles wine and liquor and tears

Do not go far enough to stray,

I can never vie to last for a day.

-

Because with my tongue of dead sense,

I can never taste with mine pallid skin the end,

Or the impending cessation of thoughts,

Of a lenience among the constellations,

The limerence in between bodies of friction,

Amid the breath of the tulips that pry:

“Will you leave by morning? ” Oh, the morning that I dread,

For in the night – the dead, hollow night,

There is no chance that light would enter

My opaque room – obtrusive upon the sheaths,

I dare send an invitation to an intrusion,

But then neither your breath nor your air

Entered my blatantly open room, waiting for

Your garish touch and blaze

-

Your silhouette – yes, dear, even the gist of your shadow

Or the mere presence of your silhouette makes my skin ache,

Fractures my bones, embellishes my fears as if a foolish man

In a wuthering height – will you come back with one prayer,

With one candlelight, with one contrition?

Perhaps not, for you have gone astray into the still land

Even the gods take lesser pity on my poor, disenchanted soul –

For as you meander aimlessly, exuberantly across the Earth,

You have left me with a stark, terse air of abandonment

Which has rendered me dead – as if the modest minutes

In between the burrowing moon and the setting Sun.