A picture of you
I can fall so deep,
by a picture
from before
I can sink like a stone…
You…
I carry you again, holding you
in my arms…
though hopelessly empty they are.
Do I write about you…
over lines and letters,
my tears are falling
and the words are drowning.
Tell me … will it end,
pain
in ashes burned,
will they ever fade?
Our loving hands.
Tonight
It is not your fingertips washing your hair,
with smothing movements
mine there is …
Not the palms of your hands is firmly lathering your body.
mine there is.
Not my hands washing my body…
Yours it is.
It is our loving hands.
