Slight hurts across the shoulders, hurriedly towards
the devotion preserved somewhere
in the silk, they come and take away it all
when lips fail much like her tests, which tasted
your time, and your sayings, she gets
a final feeling, she can’t explain
I am ploughing the field endlessly, in
search of a child, my child, where I left him to
see him change into a diamond
Hearing him again and my hands fall short
reminds me of a failure, one more, just short
of an end, a final feeling
The bricks go- to pieces, one by one, in your brain
and you pry into the debris, confused,
murdered, what happened
The streets laugh at the shattered house, I am
comfortable watching the thievery, with
the gentle numbness along
A final feeling, to the dreamland, to the surface
And to some heart, nothing’s forever, nothing
except the final feeling....forever
2 comments:
Aaah, so beautifully put.
The final feelings, yes.
Great poem. I love the ending.
Post a Comment