Wednesday, 4 February 2009

In the name of my father

LACKING

The fond heart of absence.
Silence brimming sense
of being me, thee, she.
Travesty to see.

1 comment:

  1. Absence is a friend I know too well. It is rumored to make the heart grow fonder. It can only do that if there is a foundation established, for which the heart can then long.

    I have become cynical to the point where I do not see some of the blood-related people as an extension of my identity because their works and deeds do not impact me like I am they. And they are I. They impact me and embitter me away from these relatives, embolden me against these relatives.

    Larkin avais raison.

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