Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Close

Nothing could have conveyed

it clearer

than your closed

gestures,

closed on me

now, forever.



Shall I repent?


Shall I grieve?


Shall I bleed

tears of love

into

oceans of contempt?

Isolation

So many people

know each other

except you and me;

blowing in vain

like the wind so clear

across

the window pane.