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It seems to me that it is I, and not Eric, who should have penned these words.... - for they speak my present (and forever) lonely ache so well....
WHY
DID YOU DIE?
by Eric
L. Baker
in
the quiet
morning
mist
the
primness
of
the shore
soaked
up
your
tongue
you
could
not whisper
to
the cool grey
fire:
"My
silence is louder
than
any scream"
all
the veins like ribbons
placid
and so pristine
unbound
your blood
and
slit the seam
Where
we have touched
and
smoothed
this
wrinkled sky
our
frayed existence
our
assuring lie
you
who
believed in truth
much
more than I
and
you have left
desire,
I
have need
to
feel you
through
the
still-born
waters'
glass
a
broken surface
a
ripples'
midnight
circumstance
passing
from
this world
to
the next shore
lined
with
sand and bone
you
a
stranger there
alone.
Why
did you go
and
leave me
here
?