Tuesday, March 22, 2016

This slavery is shrinking the sky,
Soon I would be able to measure it,
with a tape or on my fingers.
Stars too will become countable,
like these coins in my pocket.
When the evenings smudge in the glass houses,
we too will melt away slowly
First the words will fade,
then our senses-love and forgiveness
Only hate will remain and

This bubble will burst,
Sooner than I can possibly decipher,
and then when I fall,
free-falling like the rain,
for an eternity,
weightless and worthless,
into this empty pit of self consciousness,
bottomless into the core.
Will you give me a hand?
Will you pull me away?

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