Poema 31

*

Words, words, words …

I tie myself to the words you once spat at me

Now they slide down all over my skin

I know I’m like an empty book

One’s trying to fill in with the darkest innermost ink

Like a tattoo to fix your bitter thoughts on

So now I’m bouncing back and forth on the shore of my imagination

Stuck to you forever thinking spells

I that run from those words you once pronounced

Therefore my corpse lies over the cold stone of eternity

Suspended …

Waiting …

*

for Gill  (it's not personal ...)