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 didn't see you standing Still that statue that I molded 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, plied 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