Saturday, October 19, 2013

Confess To Me, Oh Broken Thing!

Unspoken and unsung --
unable, here, to speak or sing -- 
the thing that breaks now tastes,

and takes itself into, oblivion.
It can’t be fixed: there is no fix.
Whatever mix evoked it

into being long ago
cannot be re-invoked. We lost
its recipe. Confess to me,

oh broken thing, the secrets
of your past! All I seem to know
so far is nothing lasts.



Kris said...

i really like this text and this picture :)

Kris said...

I really like this text ant this picture:)