IN LOVE, TOO LATE

About a $%^& I used to know.

She’s in some unmapped part of the world.

I write her name, or a close approximation,

on an origami boat and send it down

the same dead river.

 

Her sky has all the stars,

and a Sun with an envious glare.

I’m here, fighting room to room,

making a mess out of things.

 

Nothing keeps happening:

Alas, the porn of the lovelorn.

 

I’m talking, she’s deaf

Gesture, she’s blind

Sing, she’s gone

I pray, she’s mute

 

Maybe meet half way,

but her broken legs.

Reviews

[AWickedMoon]

This is a very interesting poem. I really engoyed it :)