His hand is stretched to me and

Into me,

People move their steps in a deaf rush around us on the streets growing towards the world’s oldest sky,

I run through their veins in aloneness, strangers’ perfection when night sets on the edges of the light he has brought for me,

It rains in skylines of solitude under our touch, all lost, wet and eternal, the offerings on his altar,

Words of lives apart,  awareness and days in the sun, the offerings on mine,

Us,

then and there, for the times that had passed and none

For the ones to come.

M

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s