|I'm a human.|
.you touch the morning when she's sleeping;
she is soft and bruised, but
she is silent
she is not there
she is where
the darkness ruptures,
pours out stars, gives birth
to light, and where two planets
scrape against each other
as they pass, she's where
the trees in their dead slumber
dream of green coating the earth,
a heavy blanket weighing down
the dead ones while they sleep
she's where her breath departs her mouth
as small bouquets in winter, white,
and where the plants will snap
their bones just to get closer
(she is where hell cannot bend her mind)
.the last thing i write for you
will have no form no meaning
and seem erratic -
two magpies is double the sorrow.
the stars have been barred from their temple again
and i have stopped listening. suffer.
there was no love in you
where love should have been.
a dark soul
a bitter soul
a sick soul
walk into a bar.
somewhere here there's a joke
and i think that it's me.
(you will forget in a little while)