Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Following the rage and beyond the frustration is the void.
Nothing speaks from it.
The isolation rendered mandatory.
There is no selection. The choice is not yours.
I breathe into the silence and watch the condensation disband.
Fragments of feeling are lost and inevitably untraced.
We walk through tunnels we didn’t construct.
We glimpse faces we’ll never touch. Gazes unreturned.
I didn’t create your skin from scratch. Nor you mine.
We scatter our cells amongst the stillness.
- ▼ April (4)
- ► 2011 (29)