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by Fabrice B. Poussin




Don’t unwrap until summer


I made a gift for you

a strong box of steel and stone

wrapped in ribbons of platinum and gold.


You will take it to the desert

when we meet at last in this strange land

devoured by the heat of insatiable summer.


Then perhaps you and I will embrace

as we are consumed by this hostile world

barren as we were once in the fresh meadow of our youths.


A remote spot in the lost realms

no shame remains under a jealous glance

to be one there in the sublime excitement of a laugh.


Hold on to the little box with your palm

moist with the anticipation of a mere moment

floating in a dress of clouds as the last snows.


I give you the key to the flood gates

for you alone can find the secret lock

and force open all that is good within the dream.



a line, (a short blue one)



Fading Reflection


Ageless she walked down to the end of a bright hall

to a life size mirror vibrating in the recent quake.


Broken windows made for a swift breeze

apparition to the envious watcher she seemed to float.


Once upon a large image standing in the fiery horizon

never would she be forgotten idol of madding days.


Ghost of a-temporal realms she glowed in a dim dawn

wrapped in a gentle shroud between those walls.


Perhaps she smiled at the eerie image in the glass

dream for the abandoned soul unrecognizable.


Finally reaching the line traced at her barren feet

she stood bewildered by the blank reflection.


Her eyes had died in the misty room

and she remained in horror at her own vanishing.


The parchment of her skin could yet tell stories

speaking to her in tongues long forgotten.


She shivered as ice invaded those stony veins

now certain of a past destiny long unraveled. 


Transparent she now knew the body I once held

no longer hers slept below the stone.


She looked back in terror seeking comfort

alone the force of eternity pulled her beyond the veil.


I remember her youth in the tender embrace

still prancing in the dreams of her child.


Gone in the last tremor lost within a lasting kiss

she attempted one last cry for help.


Gone again I could still touch the pearly dress

as I trembled once more beneath her last breath.



a line, (a short blue one)



Just Like You


Wandering the wide avenue in the dead of night

he embraces the terror of an absolute abyss.


Above, Milky Ways attract his dying dreams

below, the fall is certain into icy fires.


It is a long way to the end of the path

the fulfillment of his solemn longings.


He can guess the hazy form in the distance

under the faint glow of a vaporous cloud.


Hesitant as he has become, it is the beloved

he closes his eyes forever to the faulty vision.


Soon he too will become possessed of the aura

ethers of her who once seems so oddly coy.


Another step and they merge in an excess of joy

at last they conceive of their everlasting wholeness.


Upon a city square the center of a newborn universe

only one warm dot remains, it is they in complete harmony.



a line, (a short blue one)



Little thoughts


Resting after the long ascent to a beloved peak

I spy a colossus wandering the rivers of the vale

oblivious to the lives trampled by his soles while

a beetle pleas in his struggle for a last moment.


Another dances near my very weary toes

six legged in its shiny carapace of stars

and I recall those days of hate when I too

crushed the helpless home of a tiny enemy.


That giant wearing the invincible armor of a God

may after all have been my own image

when a child of too many decades I grinned

to soon walk away from another innocent corpse.


Now I contemplate the memories and wonder

what was this silly creature trying to say

when he looked up in his multitude of eyes

and I ignored the hope of such a strange kin.


Mild intelligence in a world of insects

what suddenly made me king so powerful

so I may press on to set that leather boot down

and annihilate the dreams of the slithery life.



a line, (a short blue one)



Those words


Three decades long and puzzles of words

filled your days with peace and wonder.


Riding through unknown lands on grinding wheels

you found the freedom of later years in the air.


Then home to a warm meal the old man made

perhaps of routine and a little love.


Everything ready for your night’s enjoyment

an old television series and a fumbling sleuth.


I never knew the thoughts behind your gaze

the passions renewed daily for your tongue.


This day ten years have gone since we laughed

speaking of ties in a broken language.


Do you hear my voice as I seek the infinite?

see the pleas I write upon the cosmos?


You so enjoyed those games in early years

a gift which still flows in your eternal hours.




a line, (a blue one)


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