this is the turning point

when i know i will never see them again

January 23, 2019


and in the unprecedented silence - 
i am still.
the cinema screen is 
somewhat tipsy on soda not spilt,
and shivers never felt. 

and when the children yell,
where were their diaphragms?
the voice, never heard 
but felt; purplexed was the lover.
in that moment, i know i will never see her again.
intoxicated fingers, and last nights stain. 

it is the child's fault when it is raped.

see i forget, 
when am i supposed to differentiate
 a coiled receipt; a recollection of the
unwarranted spleen. 
masculinity is such an unfriendly dream;
especially at mealtimes. 

cynthia, have we not heard this poem before?
in sweatshop labour,
we hear your poetry in village streets,
like french chit-chatter.
the leech walks the other way. 

on these cinematic evenings,
i know we will never meet again. 


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  • January 23, 2019 - 6:50am (Now Viewing)

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1 Comment
  • paperbird

    this is heartbreaking

    over 1 year ago