sábado, 21 de julio de 2012

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 ...)


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