If I forget thee/If you forget me

December 2, 2013 § Leave a comment

I have no words left because you’ve taken them from me.

writing to be read is a young fir among old oaks; know this

reading to be Other, to be of use what use is this

my whole existence is tortured with the two. fold. functionalism and impossibility

of togetherness. or the idea of self-contained fantasies;

I cannot be internalised or turned inside outwards in to

a dark, sweet dream of syrup mouths knowing of each others’ existence

but never. meeting. once. and the woman who grew the woman

who grew me, is turning over, eastwards in a prayer

for my departure from Genesis and descent to Exodus, nonna

there are no promises like this, because it is

neruda knocking at my door in the dead of halfway through the night

claiming Yerushalyim is not for sale and if I forget him

it will be worth twice the remembrance of all of the left hands in the Land

I am struggling to belong to.


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