Sunday, February 8, 2009

Tell me where your spirit has gone.

So I wait.
For the moment when,
the words you speak
begin to correlate
with what you mean.

Like puzzle pieces
laced with handfuls
of broken glass.

You create a mosaic.
a delicate disaster.
our eyes will envy,
but our fingertips are stained
with dried blood.

And in our mind,
our thoughts ripen
like summer pears.
We weigh the outcome.
Overanalyze.
and the words permeate:
is it worth it?

1 comment:

Adam Fryatt said...

While I liked the other one on an emotional level, I think this one is excellent on a different level, but I am not sure what. All I know is that I could write quite a bit on this one. But you probably dont want to read my rambling, so I'll hold it to myself. Great job, though