The Transmutation of a Flame

Xaris Kalaitzidis


A process slow
and painful-

Bewitched, blossoming silence
like cancer caressed
your smile while
cherry tree-winter nights wrote
the pathos of all things
vain
the stillness of all faith
fled

Once we had no breath;
we lived in grey circles like
books not yet read
and June tormented us
with the frailty of flesh.

Strange days since delivered
darkened visions of your eyes;
respite*
life like skin
is soft,

The moon still travels backward
your body by memory eclipsed,
until it becomes
like her-
transparent.

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