Jurnal
the second heart
1 min lectură·
Mediu
I’m hearing how the noons spin
like colorful streaks from within
the agate of your temples
it is your voice that fills
these tin hours soldered on skin
the house that I’m talking you about
has foundation burrowed into the heart
walls of thoughts
opening unto the sky
inside its the attic are hoping angels
the verse that I’m daily reading
as if you would read a prayer
is the organ that knots our souls
that cuts away our breath
and the way
another brick received straight
from the beyond of thoughts
inside the circular walls
rises the second heart
005697
0