Friday, November 27, 2009

but their own.

You appear,
we speak for a while.
Where is your heart?
Will you join us?

Dark black soil
to stain your skin.
Idea held the knife
to your mind

and spoke, enters;
such absence.

If I wander here,
I trample your soul.

Let me tell you softly
what I heard
that hour,
Closer than I
can hold.
fell softly through
my fingertips,
softly through
my soul,
like memory
or water.

Heart unweaves
in words that tremble.
Fragments, silk that falls,

and I hold in my hands.
How can I,
such hands?

Too far;
this peak too high
to breach;
oh, how can I speak.

Crush my heart. Please,
take my life, and
give me away.

1 comment:

  1. I know, this is longer than the promised short poems for the rest of the year- it's actually from a while ago (I wasn't sure about it), though somewhat rewritten.