The Geometry of Loneliness
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| Image courtesy: Google |
I
When your reminiscence arrived at me,
Like the fire on the bushes,
Like the cloud of protection,
Like the wall inside the sea,
Like the word on baked clay,
I melted and waited;
As the shadow of a bird,
In the heart of the altitude,
Moving, but static- still;
For the obtuse angle to be acute angle,
To move closer in degrees,
To your flesh and blood,
And embrace the Resurrection-
Of your closeness again.
[To be continued]
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