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Explore the haunting beauty of abandoned spaces through evocative poetry that delves into themes of isolation, nostalgia, and fleeting moments of connection. Uncover the delicate balance between presence and absence, as each verse paints a vivid portrait of a world in transition.
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THE ABANDONED HIVE • MUSIC BY BRYAN CURT KOSTORS • TEXT BY MICHELLE BRITTAN
THE ABANDONED HIVE • MUSIC BY BRYAN CURT KOSTORS • TEXT BY MICHELLE BRITTAN
The house is no longer a shelter. • The air inside is the same as the air outside. • I have • no use • for walls,
My breathe turns into moss, • my eyes follow a leaf
pulling itself • pulling itself • pulling itself
along the sidewalk. • Perhaps the wind will lead it • under the tire • of a car.
Perhaps it will only absorb • the rain and the coming night.
I don’t believe the leaf will settle • below the arch of my foot.
I’m a refuge • to anyone.
I don’t notice • the moment
the • sun’s • heat
At night, • I’m the same color • as the moon.
The bees are gone • but the walls in summer drip honey,
the abandoned hive • waking in heat.
In a dream I hear the drone, • the plaster teeming,
III. ON WAKING WHEN YOU’RE • ALREADY LEAVING
The slide of the bolt and lock, • fingers snapped • at the end of a spell -
your body • walking to the car • under the inscrutable graffiti of the stars -
invisible garland of your green bar of soap • still hanging aromatic in the dim hallway • outside the shower -
the steam retreating to mirror’s oval border, • my face appearing after yours • in the cleared center -
the tiny light of the coffee pot • burning at the back of the kitchen,
the pan you cooked eggs in, • the filigree of yellow along the edge
at the end • of a spell.