A speck of rusty foolishness
and
A nasty rack
of yellow restiness
fall down
in the evening of your skin
a pale dimming tin
drowning
in that night
at Columbine,
the atomic bomb
far far away
detonating
as if the world could speak
of nothing more
even though the silence
was breaking its door,
so you went up
and in your sleepy flamboyant rush
you took the final flight
leaving me
in the eternal dusk
of your return
the never-eneding task of sorrow:
the black pond
within myself
where dark feathers
move their unknown tails
in the darkness
of my empty mind
rubymoon:
Beautiful and deep piece
francy:
👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻