Metaphysical Residue

Such particles: such residue. I speak of pain; and so much the

Grief; and we love unto hate; and hate unto love. She spoke

Of tulips; and such art. I hid a tear, speaking boldly. We

Laughed; for no one knows. Pain’s a metaphysic; and pain’s

An actuality. I can touch pain: plus, pain is mental. We webbed—

Such mystery; and conversed such pain. She grew so eloquent: I

Paused, and swooned; and pain lurked the shadows. I conjured

Emotion: “Speak the love.” She leaped the portal; and we grew

In minutes. I whispered grey: Huh; and she paused: a burgundy

Smile. We walked hand in hand: I pontificated; and she uttered:

“You can’t know that”; and I said: but of course. The day

Turned purple; and our bodies fell—a wooden floor. Such magic:

Such fever; and never to speak; and never to love; and never a

Kiss; and we grope such residue; and we feel such pain.