Grief will vanish...
as shivers of you are scattered among the sculptures of my retina
Lingering...in thy absence...
I most hysterically place my expectations in a cruel mirage,
As love is not smooth touch, but a hot bullet penetrating the carved ice...
Then pain becomes nourishment
and soul - a greedy monster whose repletion is a mere utopia...
Three words were my stairway to heaven...barren words...
Mocking self-sufficiency and leaving a blue corpse hanging,
Not able to touch the gound yet kissing the soil you defiled...
Grief vanishes...
as every minute is another year and every year is another emotion that runs dry
As rabid eyes, dwelling of vivid remembrances,
Become inertial evidences of pulse,
trapped within this hologram of comfort,
Grief has vanished..
and I wonder...is it still me who bares this heart?
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