“In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest
where no-one sees you, but
sometimes I do, and
that sight becomes this art.”
― Rumi

Sunday, August 01, 2010

Anger

Slow embers
burn through
memories, sweet and innocent.
It flares not but
feeds on love
which depletes like
a little pool of
fossil fuel -
Non Renewable.
It hurts as my
soul blisters from
the unaccustomed heat;
but why then
do I sit here alone
in the dark
fanning the flames?

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