Wednesday, February 9, 2011

FORTY FIVE : Memories

Years have walked by
dragging corpses of visions.
Entangled in knots of strings,
glistening in the bright lights
Like leftovers of some past,
clinging.

I saw you claw at them,
tearing skin in desperation,
to detatch,
Memories that have taken root.

White bone flashes
when all flesh withered
A torn tattered image floated in the air
listlessly

Dust swallowed you,
now your memories cling to my skin.



2 comments:

  1. These are not the words of a 'failed' writer...

    Brilliantly evocative at the same time lyrical and 'easy' in its flow...thanks for sharing.

    ReplyDelete