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Sight
is blighted
Hearing is merely,
Mumbling.
Tumbling in the
Underground of self.
Souls keen for love,
Hearts mean to lovers,
Arguing heads them -
Away -
Saving your aching
And worthlessness from
Dissipating,
Contaminating.
How is one leg
Enough for two?
Two will surely
Tumble.
Mumbling nights turn to
Crumbling years,
Stay -
From fears contagious,
Tears outrageous,
Stay -
From wrecking nervously,
A given life.
Stay and love me,
Until I am me, And not a hijacked impostor
Of inherited grief.
Not a degenerated soul
Without spirit.
Stay and make a home,
While we roam,
To find its meaning.
While we make exception.
Before we die,
Let us find . . .
Love.
25 October 2001
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