I asked the Lord for solace and He showed me your apparition
That was around the time we met, now that I think of it
But I mistook your face for that of the one I had thought
Was my fated person
Timing was always off with us, wasn't it ?
"If only", drips from your temples as you drench
Yourself in regrets
When I say that you've found me at a strange point in my life
I don't mean the clutter in my affairs
It feels that I shared a womb with restlessness that I drag it along
With my shadow
My heart is closed now, and when I get up in the morning
There lies on my tongue a need for shrinking back into myself
When no one is looking my way.
It is I, first
This body, this face, this mind
This heart
My limbs
My poetry, my cliche idea of art
It is I, now, and there is no space left for somebody else
Yesternight, you visited my heed at dusk
A guest, unexpected, and didn't knock in that ashamed realization
You stood at the door for hours, listening
And I thought that perhaps too many strangers have stood at this door
Waiting for me to come out of my stupor of sadness and self-indulgence
I love it inside
And I'm not going out anytime soon, but
Shall we talk through this door, perhaps ?
Humor me.
ليست هناك تعليقات:
إرسال تعليق