|
Through the fury
On the wing of the razor-edged wind
Which divides
our existence
I heard the words of the half-blind messenger
He, she desires
(And against whom I've sinned)
Has
revealed his insistence
With devastating precision he has sent for her
The perfect circle
Of a faceless moon hangs
overhead
And I, back where I started
The irony rips a frozen tear from my eye
My teeth chatter
Words desperately
needing to be said
Left with you when you departed
Now my only response, a smile or a sigh.
|
