again, I cried
not just for her
not just for him, no.
not for him
I cried for us
for myself and him and her
the three frail cats in the passageway
how did we become this
dissolved, non-existent, fictional
amongst ourselves
with ourselves, especially
how does a beautiful brick wall consume one- absolutely
Is it the hollowness of the round circles therein
Or is it the wishing pond,
from which nothing survives?
Or and perhaps, it is the cold pillars
on which we’ve accustomed to hold ?- a comfort. a warmth
I cried about the pettiness of the fickle loves
which crawls to the margins of preposterous,
beyond imagined controls
I cried about the selfish abandons
the care- less-ness
to which we confess but can never attest
I cried. deeply saddened.
I cried because I was enraged
___________________for us and them
the three frail cats
and the numerous cold pillars
The brick wall stands
So should we; forgingly
Phoebs, this here is has me asking several several questions…i love it
it leaves me with little answers
-
thanks sleek
again, I cried
I cried for us
for myself and him and her
the three frail cats in the passageway
I cried about the pettiness of the fickle loves
crawling to the margins of preposterous,
beyond imagined controls
I cried about the selfish abandons
the care- less-ness
to which we confess but can never attest
I cried. deeply saddened.
….. I was enraged