Sunday, April 3, 2016

Love is not room of rumour

Play,
play on.
Trip on the shadow.
Break.

Sieve,
sieve the fragments.
Be residue.

Arrange,
arrange the empty spaces.
Disperse.

Return,
mark the endless distances.

Wait.
Longing is another knowing.

Anticipate not, be.
Let your pauses unfold.

Love is not a room of
rumours, a crack in the
dust, it peels not
like rust. You cannot
wipe yourself clean.

Its the recurring wave that
fills and empties you
at the same time. It leaves
a mark on the stone.

The script takes long deciphering.

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