What happens to pain
that never dissolves...

Today I pruned the roses
I touched the green leaves...

is like a small fish
keen to changes...

Forgive me
If I am only holding space for myself...

Nice things always
break...

Like a prayer, almost
two hands clasped...

I put myself in a little box
one that shuts...

I
am half-built...

you turned out the lights
and then refused...

... like a blanket
made from cotton...

Speak slowly to me
as you touch my lips...

Sometimes in the quiet
slither of evening...