Monday, 7 September 2015

I want nothing

I want nothing to do
With my hands,my feet
And my eyes
I'd rather lose
My sight, my scent
My sum, my sound
Than my words

I've forgotten how it feels
When someone touches the back of 
Your neck, the front of your chest
The end of your palm
Or what you see when you close your 
Eyes and kiss
I imagine only darkness
This storm is calm 
And the waves are still

And that perhaps, is
The worst death of all
The being alone
In happiness

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