Saxifrage Song

Public domain image, royalty free stock photo from www.public-domain-image.com

Still is the Lover that thwarts the Saxifrage Song,
still and woven in the shame.
Still and frozen amongst the parchment
spill-ink longings left
to death, and memoriam ashes bereft.
Still is the Lover whose ember burns hot
without smolder nor flame.
To linger, and bite the lip of the hindered.
The eyes that speak no touch.
Such is the still of the Lover,
who sings the Saxifrage Song to naught,
but windows and walls. With every sun,
one passes a little more.

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