Wednesday, 23 May 2012

an eleventh poem...'sick'

Dark, secret love

I am only sick

Not dying.

In waking dreams

Not dying.

Through the long, tearless night

Not dying.

Wandering the nocturnal plain,

Bone weary

But not dying.

Dark, secret love

I am only sick

My sadness: a wound to sorrow

Not dying.

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