tonight i need no love
you would have run miles away from my side by now
chasing clouds in rain framed dreams
I have a few chopped limbs
and a mangled heart that still beats
while my dreams lie buried in that which I speak
without a tongue and yet with a million eyes
eyes wise eyes; too many for pure sight
I write through the sound-proof night

I shrivel like a dry grape
I purple like one too
something runs through my veins
it empties itself on the page
far too diluted for blood
perhaps the residue of filtered thoughts flows there

poetry used to be mine
now it mimes an alien tongue
it’s parody, this poetry
it parodies a dream that I sold for a quiet life
anything but quiet; poetry masquerades
no rage left here, it has no place here
between the ironed sheets of a married woman’s nights

tonight I need no poetry
a dream dead needs no mourning
only a timely burial
and it will decompose in time

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