deepundergroundpoetry.com
Rest
Somedays words are oblivion,
tasteless, dehydrated -
as hollow as empty air
and I can't make them mean more,
make them rain,
make them meet
where the birch
untangles her hair
and dangles it
over a river for baptising
instead I lay out
on a thorn-grass field,
let my flesh go dry in the sun,
larynx along with her
and imagine never speaking
nor rising again.
tasteless, dehydrated -
as hollow as empty air
and I can't make them mean more,
make them rain,
make them meet
where the birch
untangles her hair
and dangles it
over a river for baptising
instead I lay out
on a thorn-grass field,
let my flesh go dry in the sun,
larynx along with her
and imagine never speaking
nor rising again.
Published 25th Jun 2023
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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27th Jun 2023 3:39pm
