Nosidam Elegies: The Fifth Elegy

5 

The saline rivulets of sorrow
run their course across the cheek
where lingered your caress
pathways sourly retracing
the sweetness of memory
and the bitterness of loss.

I am a jeweler
and these are my beads. Colorless
they shine the loneliness of passion
and the sparkle of yearning's crudeness.
I make a necklace of regrets
and hang that noose around my neck.

Beads, a stream. They never stop
time never stops. We fool ourselves
into thinking time is infinite, time is
always there
as if the stars we saw before
were still alive today.

A streaking wishing
star
in the dead
of night.
Ten months, nine days and three hours
(we can never tell)
I last cried.
Streaks were meant to end
Streaks are all that are left.