I can’t make you love me:

October 15, 2012 § Leave a comment

imagine an Africa black and red

‘take the sun from my chest’ it speaks

‘what do you give us, anyway’

 

I have nothing to give but my big, whale soul

overwhelming ocean of old

and new

paths from words of silver, gold

I have nothing to offer

 

you, Africa

but my glass eye

in which the forced love froze its arms

around its sister, hurt

 

he who sees through colour, falls

into that sea which seems green from the point

of not swimming-

what can you see from the shore

that will not change in here?

 

there is nothing there, that will not send a sting

better to feel it from sea than from the shore

whole shoals of thoughts come swimming,

 

here

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