11:43 p.m.
sunday eve -
bedroom parlour
***
the world turned its back
on me - shunned me
from society i once knew
loved even.
i sat wasted from
all the thinking,
that i got drunk.
even though it wasn't
wine.
staring at the sun
through open doors
of my balcony.
it's withered -
rotting from
the non-stop rain
i have bestowed
upon it.
no more sunshine.
my glass is empty -
shattered.
***
YOU ARE READING
Our Vintage Dance on the Phonograph
Puisi"you and - me, we traversed at the eve of the colossal pages of our bedroom balcony." - excerpt there is no other dancing partner i would dance with other than you, my sun. you bring me to places that are wiped out of history - to the gardens of rui...
