Artifacts from the Excavation of My Love
I bottle my tears
in clinical sterile vials
caught as they slip down
my cheek from wet eyes which appeared
as the wells dug from aching places
I figure this is the best thing to leave behind
my artifacts from the excavation of My Heart
the excavation of My Love
I have them in categories under my bed so that you may
place them under your microscope
When some are curious
aeons later to know
What 21st Century pain was, joy was
what tears of love looked like
I wonder how my tears
for another ones pain will look like to you?
will my tears of gratitude for existing look the same as yours?
will my proof of loneliness look like yours?
What will the tears of love shed over an ancient soul
yet two-year old sleeping body of a cherub look like to you?
Will you know still in the future
how one mother ached and wept from loving him so much?
It may look like a feeble attempt at poetry
but you are reading the artifacts from the excavation of my heart.
Did my love pass the Aeons
to reach you?
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You’re currently reading “Artifacts from the Excavation of My Love,” an entry on Musings from the Realms of the Unreal
- February 1, 2015 / 6:00 pm
- Musings from the Realms of the Unreal