991st Poem – “A Broken Set of Eyes” – Romance – 7/23/2020

I write
All I do not know,
For the libraries have left me
Of their books,
Of their words.

I am a sentence too late
To whisper a farewell in your ear.
You came in a moment,
To disappear off the clock,
As I counted each second backwards.

Your breath sails down your throat,
Swallowed in every edge,
Disdained by every pledge.
Your eyes
Did not close, for the book,
As each chapter was written without much
I merely set sail upon the pages
To be lost in fear and blankness.

My uncertainty
Became your security.
My blue
Became your gray.

Your eyes
Sculpt out demise
While death's veil covers you,
I cannot be near, though to feel inferior.


    1. Thank you, John. 🙂

      Yes. Such a force does not judge us. It merely takes us, embraces us, while all our stories are merely chapters of a different life. Everything goes into the same book… I suppose. The same “tube” or the same “place”, so to speak.


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