affluent love

I saw time travelling in two directions
her wind slipping into knots as she stumbled
relocated escalons of hope transposed into
tiny snowflakes sticking to parked cars
the irrevocable slits of wrists and, of course
a fresh cut bed of roses and a vaulted ceiling

why does love feel different when affluence
eclipses the magic of mesmorized membranes?

no one that has everything can feel anything

so when her hand-crafted image singes your mind
and the cold air suddenly feels electric
your dilated eyes turn crystal then blur
moving memories never end with any clarity
you're only left with the faintest impression
that you've seen this before on television

but somehow that image - grainy and distorted
suffices

like a prismatic ghost scinted into unseen corners
dives into the depths of consciousness
then swells in a nuclear blast which implodes
into a stark shadow etched in blackened dust

affluent love, I've seen you before
you are in every man's memory
collapsed into a dead formula

swimming below water, affluent love
beau monde stick figures fall
leaving the impoverished with everything