Erin,
Dead flesh accretes as I age
as I die
as I too slowly join you
I am not I-that-knew-you
anymore
I am immigrant cells, inhabitants
squatting in a once holy land
The flesh that touched you
flakes
The ears that heard you,
the eyes that loved you,
replaced
The heart that beat your name
gone
a simple pump
takes its place
A confused mind realizes
the memories of you
are not mine
belonging instead to
he-who-was
I do not belong
in this dusty mansion.
Categories:
accretes, soulmate, suicide,
Form: Prose Poetry
A pond kept unclean
is detrimental to all
that accretes to it.
Pace, G
INK-U-SCRIPT
05-24-2012
Categories:
accretes, life,
Form: Haiku