Without Mythologies

A soft breeze
With the slippery concrete black and full of muddy slush
Contrasting with the hoarfrost, clean and hung
On a tunnel of silent shivering trees
The ones you said you'd like to be
And the birds that screamed at the sun

Now buried deep below the ground
Beneath the snow, I press my shoulder to this wall between us
I know you are behind me and I press my shoulder to this wall
Determined not to turn around

I do and see you standing
Still that statue that I moulded in my mind to kiss
So beautiful you'll never move again

Someplace far away
At some sad table littered with chipped plates
With bad light in 48 frames from a movie on the cutting room floor
You said, "True meaning would be dying with you"
And though I wanted to, I did not smile

But now I will give up on this wall that I have fought with
Never uncover meaning behind our rich words
If I could I would make you a raging river
With angry rapids supplied with rain
So you could always meander
And forever be able to run away

Without contending
With myths wrongly interpreted
With pain

A harsh wind
A harsh wind