ISSUE 21 : JANUARY-JUNE 2015
At my ‘bravest’ a tiny hammer knocking
I felt so small.
of a vacated cocoon, where I was
You know how longing is like a dwarf star
everything around it is un-measurable
or maybe I was the matter.
that crossed the street in the morning
a raging sea to reach me from you,
You see, I am writing you now, cutting you
I want you to trample the tide-stones
milky in the air like a cut bandage,
and most of all
I want you to be my longing turned outward
where it can finally disappear
I want you to live.