VerbSap

By Stephen Mead

"...the final agonies buried under blankets of morphine."
An Oracle, Edmund White

the silence,
rain fading like the sound of applause
on leaves when the audience stops coughing,
finally swept rapt to music or

yes, of course I babble too much, full
of allusions, usually asinine, while under
this quilt of codeine &

each layer throbs
as I find sight failing
like a flashlight in fog except

your face tunnels through,
breath stirring the sheet
swirls until I think your spirit is

back and, in any case, would like our two
bodies close, your head on my chest as if at an opera
with us cremated straight out to the sound

of rain and Verdi roaring
to one softer rush, yes,
yes, a celebration of private love
suitable enough for the public

but who are they?

 

Stephen Mead is an artist/writer living in northeastern New York. Samples of his artwork can be seen online at Absolute Arts and 123soho.com. He is the author of several eBooks incorporating both images and text, including his most recent We Are More Than Our Wounds.

The image accompanying the text is by the author. It is a photo collage from a work called Blue Heart Diary, which is formatted as a film and soon-to-be published e-book.

Stephen's essay Losing Myself is also available at VerbSap.