Into me/out of me

Never shown to catch an angel
though I have to believe it’s true
that my shame and my regret
are nothing more than a punch of sand

Every way I know this angel,
he’s holding his breath to give me some death
A gift I never wanted
a gift I must accept

The gleam of mine is yours
I swallow what you dreamt of,
never forced to run out
a smile purifies my gift
A gift you yearn for
a gift you’ll die for

A life is one, two lives are one
indeed we call them “Love”

Bitterness is what now I’m drowned by
the claiming sea glows of the sun’s rays
of death and remembrance denied
What an erasing nothing can do
is just to spit you out of me

A souvenir soils my gift
an eternal you, a desert sand
A gift you’ll die for
a gift you’re dead for

A life is one, two lives are torn
indeed we call them “love”


copyright 2006 Eleonora Pizzi

Categories: Short Stories | 1 Comment

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