Robert Mezey, 'Vetus Flamma'

[duathir.livejournal.com]

Vetus Flamma

That love that once was nearest to my heart
And pressed against my arm and forehead too
Is gone and you went with it. We are two.
You have your legends, I have an empty heart,
And in the quieted pounding of this heart
I hear the future I awaken to.
Night falls each dawn and stays a week or two
And all there is to eat is my own heart.

I nurse a broken love, a broken word,
And cannot bring myself to say your name,
But keep the smallest remnant of your word
To ornament my door with what was lost.
Unaging ghost, you never said your name—
You only came to wrestle, and I lost.

by Robert Mezey

Comments

[coqdorysme.livejournal.com]

As somebody who works almost solely with the sonnet form, I must say that this extreme limitation of the rhyme... is fantastic. The control here is impressive, and I love how original the whole thing is.