Spring

And in friendship turns the firmament

Of knowing just; that love in vengeance

Passes through and finds divinity in trust.

The sordid relics of remembered births

Of long forgotten earths are recompensed

In the actions of a supple mannequin -

Lurching for a memory of pleasure.

And yet in friendship stasis the light-aired

Spring tolls, and the unmarried woman

Wanting movement stays repelled by anonymity.

The horse-lavished carousel began to turn,

And she - knowing too well it was too late -

Remained on pastel covered bridal,

Whirling slowly into liberation.

The fabric holding clothes - to dust and fell.

The time she held in clock-worth beating -

The last Tick of nothing. The relinquishing

Of villainy eased with vivacious life

Returning in near sight - breathing essence

Into limbs of memorised violence.

She had, in that sweet moment,

Twirled in tandem with the universe -

The lost sepulchre, the last meal,

The final holding, the resonance found

In an automaton of imagined love.

The veil flew from its holding place

- The crux of her mind - and landed

There, beyond the realms of any carousel.

Actuality in time, the porcelain horse invited

The young woman to disembark.

And so she continued, passing through

The firmament of divinity in trust; knowing

Friendship was at last retrieved from an abyss -

Of unrequited Being -

In love that Spring.