She, broken night, a convex layer of reality, deflects my gaze. I can't stand blinded by her rage.
Her fair hand touches my chin, she calls me by my name.
Me? I am a plural, like two bodies hanging out like petals with an unknown fragrant centre. She says she hadn't left and for her, I embrace my yesterdays. She promises a bleak half dawn, but leaves soon again.
For her sake and mine, we both interchange, she agrees, me, afraid. Afraid? She laughs and my shadow moves closer. Afraid? This cannot be a wedlock neither is it solace. She sighs and moves away. I ask for her name. I wish I were elsewhere, and I wish she were me.
She soon returns, my mock fate. Ah, so I have lost again. She slips in and soon the chorus dies down. My knocked down fate handed over to me, and the shadow moves away from my palm, the light comes in closely behind, my eyes open. or do they?
No comments:
Post a Comment