Negative Space
It used to be that when I spoke your name
The air would shimmer with auroras high
Above the fjords. It almost caused a flame
Beyond the spines of mountains. In the sky
Ghost solar flares much higher than the pole
Were captured as reverberations in
My ribs like waving sheets, as if a scroll
Of sacred verse were sent to blot out sin
And evils of the realm where hope lies dead.
The stratosphere of love shook heavy curls
To clear the air above our sweaty bed.
Despair was blown away in lambent swirls.
..But now the winds know you are not a god.
….Your name stirs nothing, not even a nod.
