There’s a time in the heart
where all things go to rust
and forget
is not the path
to forgiveness.
When one hand claps
the world falls down.
Little strings of
old sheer tissues lob off and peel away
creating a raw clean mess
that can only be healed by a new love.
So for now
the heart only feels what it wants to feel
empty as a plastic cup.
Clear Cloudy Calamity
So far away is the future
murky as the waters that puff in the wind
away they go
singing out into eternity.

No comments:
Post a Comment