A Lull

it’s sometimes pleasant, you know
cutting my heart open with letters
signalled from God? Fate? me?
I tear away at words
and that they hate is good
because it concerns them all
and fortune will fall into the lap
of those who understand it
so sleep away
nestled amongst stars
sought for by none, but wanted
and a step along tells me
that I have indeed come aways
so that I am tired should not surprise
a lull should be enough
clustered into a mimosa
is all I am
and, I’m afraid, all I’ll ever be

   

   

Copyright L.M. 2007. (written a few months ago as well as the next few I’m posting).

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