Sunday, June 9, 2013


Cold are the words
when buried deep
only to be dredged
burned and kept.

What angel are you
travelling which roads
open arms, without devotion
no freedom found here
just quivering lips.

Before I knew you
I was just a guest.

A mirrored wall
but no reflection
just a past
without direction –
no secrets
Now –
just breathless.

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