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a Word Scott Blackwell |
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Your name -- If a single word was capable of describing you to me It was that one. If one word was capable of encapsulating you, Of distilling everything you became to me, everything You awakened in me, everything I thought Was dead in me It was the simple plangent sound of your name. Exotic as you were -- in French, to want. Forget Shakespeare, everything was there. ***
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It descended like a harbinger of good news and bad. It became synonymous with you -- with me -- the part of me That bloomed before you in sudden recognition. Weaving through my skin like a monogram, blood red and Sharp as a needle, were three small syllables, Each gilding my own singular iron brand; A rubric Engraved in darker metal, eponymous Wide-open characters, a code that once seemed So simple to crack; The standard that constantly waved beside you, that tangled In the last remnants of you, 
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