Now i have a choice
between an arch of silence
or a shout of truth,
Let eyes grow stagnant on youthful flanks
Let lips disperse into muck
Let words seep in glass vial
for a lifetime of dirty soles
in aching speed and sure denial
death and matters of the heart come uninvited
much like visitors in a vase
on a warm holiday
A child offered me a flower today; I refused
politely I said and insisted "no sweetie, thank you"
I refuse to share stolen stems
she adorned her small head and frolicked away
I stayed behind, scratching the back of my neck
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment