Drinking Under the Moon

"Poetry and hums aren't things which you get, they're things which get you. All you can do is go where they can find you" – A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

Zorbing

Suddenly I am lost again,

Not in your eyes but in your emptiness.

I am lost in your ready lack of words,

Your ready lack of tears

And mine fall, zorbing down by cheeks

And you say nothing

And I say something

Like I love you.

But those little words are lost in your abyss –

Absorbed by the vortex of your rebuff.

My little sobs try to catch them, but failing

To push them inside you.

I have been eliminated by that volcanic heart.

Molten and burning that turned black

And spoiled with my cool current of Worship.

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This entry was posted on December 10, 2013 by in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .
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