the shirt

these eyes
can see.
they see more than most.

this blue shirt?
it means nothing…
NOTHING without
what lies beneath
this skin.
i am happy in this skin;
but happiest when you
caress what resides within.
this heart, this beating heart,
that beats with aplomb,
when you plant
a bomb.
this view?
this stronghold place of my own?
’tis nothing
without your arms
to fold
and unfold me.
this bed?
this bed was made
with love
for you to (not)
sleep in
every night.
without you
it is only
the food
in the fridge?
it would no longer
a love-thing be;
neither comfort
or nourishment
without your tempered blade
and steam.
i could let it rot.
why not?
without you
it is a
i cannot swallow.
these nights,
long as time,
are the longest time.
and the stars no longer
impress me.
they lack lustre
and seem inept.
they can’t catch wishes.
they lied.
the sun in the sky
try as he might
to bring light
to brighten
and share the burden;
for my heart
would be crushed,
to mush.
without the love
of my love,
i am numb.
numb, blind and
a dumb automaton.
i don’t want to feel
or to see
or utter a word,
or a sigh.
and why?
because without
this love, my love,
everything means nothing.

words (c) Kat McDonald 2015 (a lost poem, and a found philosophy: there is no such thing as loving someone too much. love is everything)
image (c) Ewan Rollo of Avatar Photography

for Robert, my nourishment & protection.  my talisman. my anchor. the love of my life.


2 thoughts on “talisman

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s