Time beats pulse on hollow vessels,
hovers over sterile tomb.
Inches from our hearts each path
wraps bone in aching streak of vein.
sometimes in your arms
i was almost loved
Waxy skull leaves yellow stain,
dull grain on vivid empty palm.
Life’s echo paints a fading line
in heavy silence, aches and lies.
sometimes in my arms
you felt almost loved
……………………
new version of an older poem … fits with easystreet prompt #175
…………………
forget me now 
Somehow i missed the point. Probably lost in translation 🙂 Anyway … nice blog to visit.
cheers, Contradiction!
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Your comment was sucked into the spam vortex, due to a very iffy sounding email addie no doubt .. by chance i decided to explore that dark place and was able to approve you …*grin
Anyhow, i’m glad you enjoyed your visit here, even if this poem didn’t really mean much to you!
Thanks … and i LOVE your nic!
S
Yes, sigh.
The juxtaposition of those lines (sometimes…loved) makes it really melancholy. The images are also (again as with all your poems, should I keep repeating myself…) very striking.
But what really hits home underneath the imagery and the melancholy is that pounding heartbeat of a rhythm. Is it anger? Sadness? It depends on how one reads the poem.
Another one that deserves rereading again and again.
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your sensitivity to the emotions in my poetry are awesome, Ario!
you’re so right about the ones you saw here .. it makes trying new versions difficult because of course it depends on mood when i decide to have another go, and of course i don’t always really know what the mood is until you point it out to me later LOL
but i guess that’s ok … a poem that’ll never be resolved – in this lifetime anyway – each transformation as valid as the rest? unless it turns out rubbish of course … LOL
yes, Paisley – love, like all else human is twisted and turned in dependency and whatever … thank you for seeing that …
Caroline – yep, you got it dear one! x
lissa – welcome and thank you for your kind words on this … i’m glad you like that line, i do too *grin ..
there’s still much that could be done with this poem but it’s been a zillion years on the way and may undergo many transformations to distil itself yet .. *sigh … some life-defining moments are like that, eh?
lovely, haunting poem. captures the essence of “almost love.” the line “Inches from our hearts each path wraps bone in aching streak of vein” is amazing.
“sometimes in your arms
i was almost loved”
are perfect lines.
Almost loved is the worst kind of loved.
x
i feel the stain of having loved.. and this poem really brought the pain of that emotion to the fore… excellent.