Sunday, 3 June 2012

5am / March 25th (Poem)

I dreamt you were an owl,
you kept leaving me for the night.

You said night made you wise,
it’s the kind of darkness you came from
                               that’s why  you go back to it.

 You called me pigeon
                Because I knew how to hide
                                     in the night -

              I puffed up my chest
                           slept with all my hope
                  balled on the ledge of a broken window,
                    
              I had to get warm without you.
 I woke
           still thinking I could fly -

knowing the closest thing to me
                                                          was your shadow.

No comments:

Post a Comment