Nicholas

I have been mourning you for days and nights
I have been mourning and crying to the moon
You would have waited for me if you knew I was mourning.
Such a black beauty could not last upon the white earth
but a star remains alive in its long flying light.

You are so beautiful that it hurts
deeper than a stone above the abyss.
You are so pale and dark in the mist
that my heart seem to stop for the glory of Infinity.
You could have waited for me over the creek.

I forgot the cruel world and its beasts
I flew light and everywhere, rose high and looked for you
but your face seemed to fade in the mist among the black and white
like horses in the field of rice and sand, near the river.

The sound hurts and all the poets are all dead
it means we can rest now, my dearest love.
We can see the ocean and walk over the fields
of flowers, green leaves and dead bodies of poets.
Poets fallen like feathers or stones taken by gods from the hills.

You could have waited, how could you be so impatient?
Now they'll know you were here when you're gone.
And I will stay on the train station looking to the lines
and crying for your black hair in the wind that's gone.
Everything gone to the hole of time, through the eye of Forgetting
but I desperately cannot forget in the early morning
the prayers your hair sent to the tiny gods of thunderstorms.

We shared ours hands on the creek
and we wore clothes made of plants and shells.
It hurts so much I cannot write anymore.
I feel as I was going to vomit my spirit if I had one.
It hurts, Nicholas, and you thought I didn't know
what love was, how it feels to be in pain every day and night.
I wish you had waited on the river.

For the first time I know the horrible pain of your loss
but I won't last on this earth for I'm going after you
wherever you are I will find you and we shall laugh and sing.
I promise I won't stay and watch your pictures as a dying rose.

I have already died many times watching the river take your shadows away.