White Spaces

I’m forgetting what the white spaces looked like.
Filled them in with filigree markings,
While eyes like God watched overhead
Ensuring every spot was penciled in.

It’s a waste of space plastered
In secret messages and mixed tapes
Where recorded are your words
Over and over again,
Saying,
“Lift us to heaven.”

I carry your cross on my shoulders,
Each year growing older.
Getting over the mechanical whine
Of cogs forced to keep up the
Political two-step of your time.

How is this mine?
Two left feet unable to keep rhythm
With dogs and ponies
Drowned in perfumes and ribbons.

Unkind queens
Reaching for the crowns of their kings
Praying for the earth beneath their feet
To end its quaking.

I felt a woman’s beating heart halt.
You were nowhere to be found,
And somehow
You made this my fault.

I’m forgetting what the white spaces looked like.
Filled them in with filigree markings,
While eyes like God watched overhead
Ensuring every spot was penciled in.

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About St Basil Z Fish

Curator of the strange and incredibly awkward. A rambling writer with the misguided notion he has something to say. His only redeeming qualities are his wife and children.
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