Poem – Before You Came

Before you came things were just what they were: 

the road precisely a road, the horizon fixed, 

the limit of what could be seen, 

a glass of wine was no more than a glass of wine.
With you the world took on the spectrum

radiating from my heart: your eyes gold

as they open to me, slate the color

that falls each time I lost all hope.
With your advent roses burst into flame: 

you were the artist of dried-up leaves, sorceress

who flicked her wrist to change dust into soot.

You lacquered the night black.
As for the sky, the road, the cup of wine: 

one was my tear-drenched shirt, 

the other an aching nerve, 

the third a mirror that never reflected the same thing.
Now you are here again—stay with me.

This time things will fall into place; 

the road can be the road, 

the sky nothing but sky; 

the glass of wine, as it should be, the glass of wine. 

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