Poezie

Facing the mirror?

1 min lectură·13 iulie 2004

Mediu

Unbreathing colours in the present somewhere\'s

Dismnesic an outline of the absurd \'gain pervious

To other colours/steps of many blind gaits.

Talking long ago, defining

Crutches for the lame, rethinking

My own pacing never.

Smouldering. Died later. Couldn\'t know

I\'m still wasting a periodical eye.

Why is that? Because it\'s not raining, I heard,

But in fact, a crutch is aching my ribs

Sustaining many crippled breaths. And I,

Precisely I had to stumble upon it,

And thick dust thus raised to my eyes -

That is the reason I cry. Feel blind sometimes

And hold my eyelids crushed,

The smoke inside,

And that is the reason I cry.

May sigh wearily at dawn

Unbreathing too many breaths

In mouths wide-open for gaits blind and lame;

I couldn\'t crush so out of pity recompose those crippled destinies

And cry. Possibly hoping to drown them,

Some say.

005.690

Axel Lenn. “Facing the mirror?.” Atelier, Poezie.ro, https://poezie.ro/atelier/axel-lenn/poezie/79702/facing-the-mirror

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