Jerome by Anastasia Forfotă - HTML preview

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Hiraeth

 

 

Erase me,

erase me, darling,

from your mind,

the sweet smell of almonds

a brain,

oranges in the air

erased

with a razor-

blade, I suppose it could work,

in case you're willing to go

through with it.

 

But the whiff of you is faded,

I've forgotten it

or at least I am trying very hard to

and now everything is bland

and sour

not unlike decapitated flowers

starting to get dry,

starting to fall,

starting to die.

 

Is this how it's going to be?

Shall we perish

unrooted

and

torn apart,

siblings from our Mother's heart

that once in ecstasy were saved

and now are killed, of sun depraved,

it this our vertigo?

 

Is this the way we'll go?

Our vows, unemptied

by reminiscent perfumes,

sing us a song

 

I might be popping out of my head

from too many thoughts

of you, too many,

how can I erase you?

Wipe out my crevices

like a white sheet

and then I'll remember

vacant bed

and I am back again.

 

Water, water,

our sole refuge,

The Great Escape

from oasis burnt in the desert,

close to the pyramids,

even closer

to the truth

of the two dead narcissus.

 

Our time has come;

erase us.