Monday, March 31, 2014

a tale that's not mine

triple a
a poet in love with the radioactivity, the radioactivity in love with the poet... that night sometime in january you felt so deeply sorry for my love misfortunes with the boy with flowers in his hair (whom i only met because of you) that you cried your eyes out at your computer staring at the screen, rummaged for excuses to drop by, found none, still stomped over to see me. you popped in for a cup of hot tea and stayed on for twenty more hours, a lot more tea and a lot more beer. you arrived with red eyes, vodka breath, pothead and the allegorical gift of the radioactive poet's life tale... you said you would outlive everyone, and i trust you. i know you will for you and i, the mirror images in some ways, know that sometimes the words we speak are prophetic. so fulfill your prophecy, bury me when i'm dead in another eight-nine years. bury me, caress my soul on its last journey with tales of bygone times, kiss my soul with your tears, promise me...

No comments:

Post a Comment

Бусдын эрхэд халдсан утга агуулга бүхий комментуудыг хэвлэхгүй болно.

put on a face

put on a face                      a brave face, a dead face put on a face and go. put on a face                       a kind face, a br...