Retrospective

Light burns deadpan sky, yesterday’s sun evaporates.

 

Bells sing always for someone; you lie there almost dead

face sculpted from pain. Returning : but I have no flowers.

 

I dream of sea worlds, saliva, messages. Today holds no hostages.

 

Every moment perfect to itself,  we exist in the shadows of memory

along a corridor of recognition.

 

I am full of you, empty of you. When you leave I return to myself

 

a stranger .

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s