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edward palmquist

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driftwood on the shore

2007

As the sun melts into the sea
I start to understand
what happened to you and me
the blood that stains these hands.
The injuries inflicted had grown to be too much.
So why now more than ever should I want to feel your touch?

The twilight now is spreading
I’m safe inside this place.
Reflecting a diamond netting,
the water veils your face.
Rising to the surface, I can clearly see you now.
My bitter spite had been the why, my sinful lips the how.

The stars above illuminate
my hands pale at my side.
Warmed by memories of self hate
I search for those that hide.
Your words were in a dead tongue I’d never understand.
Memories slip through my fingers, all reduced to sand.

I look out to the distance
at the shimmering shining sheet.
But with memory’s persistence,
the beauty’s incomplete.
The moon hangs above me; cold, murky, and alone.
Just Luna and I together with the bitter wind’s sad drone.

The pieces are returning
washing up upon the shore.
A new hope now is burning
for what is held in store.
I reach out now to snatch them, to claim what lies inside,
but as they were brought to me, they fall back with the tide.

Bound at sea by eternal chain
a ship tracing the haze.
Sharing in his quiet pain
I return the Dutchman’s gaze.
For we two are taunted by dead memories long gone.
The sorrow that we carry is our never ending song.

The moon now at its zenith,
the waves die out now calm.
Digging at the ground beneath,
with heart exposed in palm.
I ask not for forgiveness, but to hold me just once more.
But inside, I know it’s all just driftwood on the shore.

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