When talk is easy
Our mouths - a pistola
And separated, we fly with our words
Into the divide
It is times like these, I think of
The road I am walking.
Of the strangers that have passed me by.
And sometimes,
I think of my world
A prism in a bubble,
The colours dissolved.
Faint, as my reflection in your eyes.
A photograph, maybe a decade old
And a shelter from the rain,
Cradled in my arms,
Like a mother to a child.
When the fever of yesterdays subside like,
Moonlight from my door and,
Waves at the shore, we shall
Sing and play games with our masks.
And become two dreams, entwined
To haunt our nights.
In such times, I will remember,
A washed out room
And an evening canvas
Where the yellow sun of my autumn
Sank behind your eyes
When I learnt to speak in tongues
And wishes were let loose upon the wind,
Like clothes hung out to dry.
Our mouths - a pistola
And separated, we fly with our words
Into the divide
It is times like these, I think of
The road I am walking.
Of the strangers that have passed me by.
And sometimes,
I think of my world
A prism in a bubble,
The colours dissolved.
Faint, as my reflection in your eyes.
A photograph, maybe a decade old
And a shelter from the rain,
Cradled in my arms,
Like a mother to a child.
When the fever of yesterdays subside like,
Moonlight from my door and,
Waves at the shore, we shall
Sing and play games with our masks.
And become two dreams, entwined
To haunt our nights.
In such times, I will remember,
A washed out room
And an evening canvas
Where the yellow sun of my autumn
Sank behind your eyes
When I learnt to speak in tongues
And wishes were let loose upon the wind,
Like clothes hung out to dry.
1 comment:
i like the last two stanzas. but i would like to register - its not always easy to follow your train of thought. (do you intend it so?) also the image used in the last line was better employed elsewhere.
Post a Comment