Sand – Eva Weggelaar

Sand – Eva Weggelaar

Sending another message across the seas
to drown in my mirage
and dwell among my sunken fantasies:
such a perfect entourage

I can still remember
all the buildings and the rain
my cigarette a glowing ember
lighting up at each refrain

Now I only breathe when I’m in a car
or when, at last,  it’s dark
so get me out of here, drive far
and may the miles leave some mark

Soon, soon, almost
but here I am still
haunting the hallways like a ghost
©Eva Weggelaar

Illustration: Aubrey Beardsley

Winter’s Bed – Eva Weggelaar

Winter’s Bed  – Eva Weggelaar

I’m standing on your doorstep,
wearing that one pair of shoes,
and on the wall my fingers tap
out a happy ending made from fragmentary clues.

I would gladly wait
for the leaves to fall again and again,
would choose to be late
and decide to stay through winter each time it began.
You say time flew
but has now grown old,
as the wind was a breeze that grew
to be strong and cold.
But I would see the sun
during an endless night,
would live a thousand lives and still run
for a chance to be by winter’s side.

So if you would open the door
again but say instead,
that what has flown can fly once more,
I’d choose to spend my time in winter’s bed.
©Eva Weggelaar

False Light – Eva Weggelaar

False Light – Eva Weggelaar

The false light
fills your mind.
Make-belief they’re right,
and you’re the one who’s less than kind.
Dreams fall like autumn rains,
hit the ground and sink away.
No time for changing lanes
when you’re trying to get through each day.
When no one hears,
there’s no truth that cannot be denied.
After exposing you to all your fears
they’ll say they were always on your side.
There’s no way to explain
when mirrors cover every wall.
Watch the rain,
and learn to fall.
Fingers slip,
walking on hollow ground.
‘Hey, when did you lose your grip?
Your words never even made a sound!’
©Eva Weggelaar

Illustration: Paul Nash