"Of Absinthe-laced Echoes"

"Of Absinthe-laced Echoes"

The Heart Stayed Lit 

Sometimes I think—
let them keep their borrowed light,
for joy survives best
when untouched by my sight.
I know this truth, however kind,
to step too near is to unbind
the fragile peace that hearts defend,
and turn beginnings into ends.

So I choose silence, soft and thin,
a careful art of not stepping in.
I draw my lines where shadows stay,
believing distance clears the way—
that limiting each word, each glance,
might quiet rumor, chance, or chance,
and cleanse intent of names unmeant,
until desire learns consent.

Sometimes I think, if we should speak,
my thoughts would spill, no longer meek.
So pardon me if I appear
inspired beyond what’s proper here.
Is it your beauty, calm, or grace,
or love that lingers in that face?
No wonder such a glow, so rare,
is called strange by those unaware.

For in these days, when careful minds
mistake the pure for poorly timed,
even the loveliest of words
are judged as shame, or thought absurd.
Yet what is strange in petals blown,
or twilight claiming sea alone?
Must all that passes softly through
be labeled fault for being true?

I cannot deny—nor will I feign—
your presence stirred my quiet grain.
As though my thoughts, too long at rest,
rose briefly, then dissolved to mist.
Call it embarrassment, if you must—
yet what disgrace lies in the dust
of blossoms carried by the air,
or sunsets fading, unaware?

If this be my last offered line,
let it seem clean, without design:
I stood, I felt, I did not claim,
and let the moment keep its name.
No vow was sworn, no bond made fast—
yet neither wholly slipped to past.
For even as the light withdrew,
the heart stayed lit—quiet, and true.

She Who Arrived Like Absinthe

How beautiful she is—

As if the green fairy turned human, gifting me bliss;

A quiet radiance I dare not dismiss,

A presence that softens even sorrow’s kiss.

She moves like a thought the heart keeps secret,

Light as a vow never spoken but meant;

In her silence, prayers feel suddenly sent,

As if heaven paused, briefly intent.

Her gaze carries absinthe’s emerald glow,

Sweet with longing, bitter with what I know;

One look, and the night learns how to slow,

Teaching ache how to gently let go.

She is warmth poured slow into fragile hours,

Not a flame that consumes, but one that empowers;

A bloom that rises through cracked stone towers,

A mercy disguised as borrowed power.

If she leaves, she will linger still,

In the way the dark bends toward the will;

To hope again—soft, fragile, and real,

Like a dream that fades, yet teaches you to feel.

And if love never dares to speak her name,

Let this wonder remain the same:

That once, through grace both wild and tame,

Beauty arrived—and unmade my pain. 

A Night Given to Prayer and Wine

Trying to make the night grow warm,
Through wine and old songs’ tender form,
Enough to stir, if not disarm,
The quiet ache that courts its harm.

I pray to Saint Hubertus low,
While green-faired visions come and go,
Enough to ask what made it so—
Why your presence set thoughts aglow.

Pardon me if unworthy, heartbroken,
If grief has named me once forsaken;
Is it because those thoughts called love
Turned into poems, sent far above?

Maybe the fusion of brown and green
Tastes stronger, bittersweet it seems,
Reminding me of what has been—
Of someone still who lingers in.

Enough to yearn, if not inspire,
A quiet hope that dares not tire;
Enough to name this tender fire,
Though never claimed, nor set entire.

The herb, as if brewed by prayer or spell,
By whispered vow I cannot tell,
Grants one brief chance to hearts unwell,
To warm despair where shadows dwell.

Through brew that lingered all the night,
I learned this ache was not of spite,
But warmth that bloomed in softened light,
Bittersweet truth held tight in sight.

A warmth that meets thy tender taste,
Neither claimed nor left to waste,
As fleeting as a hurried grace—
A kiss remembered, touched in haste.

If this be end, then let it be
A gentle leaving, calm and free:
Like wine gone warm, like song gone thin,
I loosen now—and fade within.