A Crown of Rosemary

There god lay and bled,
There where all had walked before
But not remembered.
I saw your smile in a stranger's eye,
I laughed when you told me you'd died.
Lost things always want to be found,
Watching flies drop like friends,
The ones who don't want to be found
Crawl off like dying cats.
The ones who do,
The ones who do...

Two lay curled in a loving pose
'Let them rot' I think,
There is so much light in the noises
Of the world around my mind -
I clutch your hand and smile.
Would you want to be found,
And if so who by?
I try to wipe the tears from my mind's eye
And end up just fixing my hair.

We wind our way between parked cars,
You always rush when there's no hurry,
The softness of words I can't remember
Float by as you're nearly struck
By something no one else can see,
And I know better than to yell.
I think I found you once -
Yes you made sure of it.

Calling from a bench I saw you grinning,
Your smile cuts my silence like a knife -
How can I mope grimly when you find your way to me?
Your jacket still turns up from time to time
In piles of debris about my home,
Wherever that home is.
I remember you lent it to me for the weekend,
But I turned it into scrap
Before I knew you'd done the same
With your frame and plain brown hair.

I find myself in serpents' eyes adoring
A dangerous kind of beauty I've not known
Since callously you left this world
And took with you my words to be buried,
Clutched in your ruined wretched hands,
A love you spoke of often, cruelly,
And things you promised never come to pass,
But still I turn my head each time I pass your house.

Blood beneath the rosemary
That grows with no thought or mind,
Blood of god and child -
Branches heavy with the scent
Of remembrance and love.
Thoughtlessly I run my fingers through your branches,
And for half a moment, I hear your voice again.
Always excited, fervent,
Even in your despairs.

 Lord above, if ever you adored me,
If ever you among your children listened,
This one begs of you small favor,
Not to cheat the burden of your judgement,
Nor be spared the harshness of your trials,
Into the bosom of the Moloch I'll still crawl,
But please if you've ears to hear,
Keep her. Keep them.