Morning Truths

When you wake
looking for me
one last time –

remember:
silently, how cold
I was, the night

no one came.
Dry your tears
in her soft hair –

where memories, of me,
will be carried away
by armies of lice.

It would be fitting,
to grind, what is left,
of me, to dust: spread it,

over your new hearth;
she won’t notice;
not underneath –

all that is new,
where the passions
of your home fires

burn, I will fade
in morning cinders,
and you can tell her:

‘I never had a life,
not before you’
it can be true.

-LJ

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A Desert Mirage

I let it happen
I ran to it; I stayed.

A desert mirage –
distorted those years.

concealing the tears of my heart
within the monsoon.

The locusts laughed
full of chat:

the years of fear:
it was the song of the sirens.

now: broken down and stuck,
in the hell of my own hallelujah

there is nothing in me, that moves,
but the desert calls all its babies:

with the softness of a mother’s touch
and a knowing forgiveness

of everything in between.

L.J.
image

I see it in your eyes, he said,
suspiciously, I glanced –
perhaps a piece of my soul slipped out?

In my head, under the Eiffel tower
Parisian lights polluted the Seine river
reflecting the lovers here before;

blinding our histories – fresh air accosted
every sense, the limited space between our bodies
grew hope, love fragrant in the night air.

-L.J. Lenehan

Motionless from the view of your soul,
disguised in pain, waiting for the knock
of my heart at your door.

Should you open – I might listen
to your stories, if you listen to mine
we can put this world to right.

How romantic it sounds: naked love,
a timeless collapse of you and me
indefinite in a wild undercurrent.

-L.J. Lenehan

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Dancing angrily,
the air of the chimney – whips
surly flames

mocking tales of fairy endings
creations of the devil
tempting us all

to one more day
of wishes, suffering, happiness
trivial mysteries.

-L.J. Lenehan-
turf+fire+framed

Elephant Girl

My heart, the elephant
of my fate, broken and painful
stumbling through this journey,

without a herd,
without compassion,
without a lover,

I walk through hot coals laid for me
by you, singing my skin, you stare,
until I burn, you turn and go.

But I am the strength
I need in your aftermath
to rise again.

-L.J. Lenehan