Monday, March 22, 2010

A Love-Lorn Night

Last night I realised
that I am the climbing
white rose briar
and you the teak tree
with your straight smooth bark
and broad leaves
I lose myself
upon extrication.

Last night I discovered
you again,
through your words
you came alive
within me
within these angular walls.

Last night I realised
that this pain that writhes
like a body that is shot
but is not quite dead
and this dull, slow ache
that haunts till life
becomes death
is part of me.

Last night I remembered
the pearl the oyster makes
of the itching grain of sand
and I prayed
that the wisdom of the oyster
be granetd me.

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