By Rob Hardy
(Previously Published in Hemetera 2018)
I wish souls could stretch from our bodies
And touch between us.
Uttering secrets we may not have known ourselves.
Teachers of the unsung goosebumps
The kind that show when I see your face.
Now melodrama is the candelabra that lights
The narrow passageways which just may
Guide me to you yet.
And diving deeper, the idea of your smile,
Stands the hair on my neck.
I push farther, deeper into the catacombs,
Of feelings buried after life-long wars.
Wars fought for this one,
Or that one,
And no one.
But you’re not no one.
You’re Apollo in the sky.
So, still perhaps there’s a war to be won,
Or a Great Peace to be learned,
Following a flickering light
With a hope to ignite a fire.