Hungering to hold him,
Yearning to enfold him,
To my hollow breast,
My outstretched arms ,
Find only,
Emptiness.
I crave the cessation
Of the endless pain.
Standing barefoot on cold marble,
Feeling hard ebony,
But falling through clouds.
Kneeling, my cheek caresses,
Not baby soft skin,
But hard as iron,
His oaken coffin.
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire