Sunday, 8 September 2013

We are that

I have your vision
in mute corridors and
the sudden screaming
cradles this poems tougher
masterpiece.
Abiding by truths
We come to destruction
And end of our skins.
Abstract windstorms
Distant trains tearing
With happy tracks and
faithful unknowns.
ruptured strength holding
our beautiful night;
insomniac truths.
dissipating our variants of
forbidden love stories;
We are that.  We are that.

this will be my last poem

so that i remember. because before melted steel, there was hand-made, better, buttered words. we can decide if new spaces beneath me can qui...