The sound
of your name
echoes
through thigh
belly, and chest,
clear roads,
open doors,
no one responds.
A deceiving
fog
wraps morning.
That glare
over there -
- a star?
Streetlight;
hazy mind.
I’ll always remember
this day
weeping
so often
so calm
as a grave.
One hundred
letters
I’ll never post
vanished
in sleep.
Why crying
again flaring
nostalgia
in a dense
cold dawn.
You wanted me
to let go.
I let go,
and now
inhabit
your past,
wondering
how we’ll tell
the stories
of each other
to our next
lovers.
(Note: Impromptu “haiku” and “senryu” that I posted on Twitter were strung together and disordered, and torn apart in an attempt to produce a unified whole. Even this is impromptu.)
If you liked my post, feel free to subscribe to my rss feeds
BlogoSquare