Man of No Letters

a place for no arguments nor approvals

Let It Be Read

Let it be read, be told, be sounded

Let the sound of your voice control my nerves and heartbeats

Let your face and lips absorb everything my eyes could see and follow

Let the story carry me to the land where I fear not to be jerked back to the life I have but own

Let there be darkness with a bit of shade of light  that you have become

Then the the selfish child in me — pardon me for the expression — should rest

In the vacancy that has been  cracked by the vibrating words of yours

Feeling the released gravity of my body, now you do cure

And falling into sleep that I can’t feel anymore


p.s. I needed to write this down immediately at the expense of a pause from The Book of Disquiet.


Filed under: poetry, , ,

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