By Marshall Hann
Submitted by Blessed23
Date: 2009 May 31
Comment on this Work


Snowflakes descend
quietly, gently
on this cloudy morning
and my eyes are open
so I can not dream
or hold this perfect silence,
just pieces of you,
broken and irredeemable
(like Me)

There is a constant tide
of misplaced desire
burning my memories
while I clumsily
caress your imperfect skin
(alleviating the injustice of loneliness
for this microscopic moment)

and yet,
I remain distant
I walk the streets
in solitude
Because I have no compass,
I have no grace,
I am made
from archaic stones
and fragile memories
(I am just a body
bound for bliss
in another strange bed:
tangled bodies
writhing, burning
So close,
Yet so alone)