Everything I’ve written has not been a lie
nothing I’ve written has been honest
I could write “I want to fill you with words
softly scented like flowers”
I could not write “the black petals will fall
from the once colourful tulips”
Tonight the sky’s breath fogs all the windows
in my little house there is no warmth
All night the trees remain un-leafed
try to reach up the sky is busy breathing
The whole earth moves to the beat of the lost
those who walk above it and those who lie beneath
Scratching to get somewhere else
oblivious to the source of the itch
And everywhere so many teardrops
disguised as natural disaster
Through the dirty windshield
the entire world becomes a bug streak
Scattered like ants without a hill
Where on earth are we all going?
Rubber tires turn to the sound of spring
no snow just pavement
Like the sound of a heart repeating -
Love, take me with you.
No comments:
Post a Comment