We communicate through broken mirrors and foggy lenses.
Our pulses are questionable though our thoughts are sincere
enough to hide in each other’s formidable comforts.
I see you as if the sky were a stage
and me, like a peasant stealing glances
this is our reality; this is our sweet tragic vice.
Entangled in the mists of a waterfall fallen off course,
and high above a dormant garden
I lay to rest our secret stash
of broken love letters and sensual ashes.
I will smoke what is left of our faltered dreams
for the eternity in which you beckoned.
You will taste the debris each time we kiss
and choke on realizations too soon to conceal.
I will forgive you for your fostered lungs
and mourn the inevitability of our conversations
that have been reduced to the seconds between flames
where we take turns escaping this lifetime
anxious to fail in the next.
Now I look at the skies, and you are nowhere to be found…
only when I close my eyes and breathe can I touch you.
Your sonic qualities are getting better with each piece you submit. It's really quite nice, it's like an auditory exploration of your words on the page.
I get the impression you've been working on them, or, at least, using them more. I have to say you should continue to focus on them - perhaps write out a whole piece flexing that muscle group entirely. I see a lot of potential there.
Your descriptions are also getting better, as well. You know I always felt that you wrote better stories than poetry but now the line is beginning to blur. The distinction is growing paler, as it were. It's a good thing, even if it isn't coming across that way. It's great to see what you're doing in the more limited format of your poetry.
Your whole expressive set is improving - like a kid who got a chemistry set for Christmas and is learning concoctions.
That said, with the piece, specifically, the last line sticks out because given what theme I'm grasping (and I could be wrong) it smacks too much of longing. In an odd way, I mean, it's making me think "you'll always be a part of me" and I'm not liking the way that rests here. I'm not sure why but, there you have it.
In the place of "like a peasant'' consider "patron" and tell me what you think. I like that word better given the thought being expressed.
I think you should put a comma after "waterfall" just so it doesn't bleed together in a falling fallingfallingfalling kind of way. Yes; quite.
In place of "faltered" consider "fractured" or "failed".
On the realizations bit try : "and choke on realizations you can't conceal."
In "I will forgive you for your frosted lungs" try dropping the for "I will forgive you your frosted lungs"
If I read this piece right, I interpret it to be about a friend (or possibly lover) that you really have no connection to out side of smoking (whatever substance that may be). I am all too familiar with this feeling and commend you for trying to capture it in a poem. I think it is something a lot of feel, but not many of us think to put in to words or use in our art. Originality bonus points for this piece.