in the debris of the past,
scraps of casually discarded emotion.
in hastily trashed yesterdays,
an inkling of moments flung away.
in heaps of rubbished words,
that tiresome sigh of defeated thought.
in the layers of moulted skin
the wilting self that once was true.
in the reflections between the ripples,
for the whispered pangs of roaring desire.
in the blank eyes streaming endlessly,
an echo of the faintest sigh of new life.