my write hand
the withering hours
- February 28 -
i heard the world
split and roar
i awoke
with crust in my eyes
with core on the pillow
melting at my feet
warming the cold side of the bed
i watched it
curl your skin
away from me
singeing what you’ve shed
and what has stayed
i saw it
level the shape sunken
in my wrinkled sheets
from when you let your bones
grow heavy with me
and i wish i had been alone
to rest my fingers in the grooves your spine had impressed
to bury your vacant seeds in blankets we once sowed
or just to see
with nothing blackened
or to sense
with nothing burning
that you
will never bloom
beside me
again
-
nouvelliste said:
Lovely. That last stanza is killer.
-
mywritehand posted this
