Poem 1982 (5)



today I am weary
your ever-seeking hands
have already spread lusty verses
down my yielding lines
now you are away
stirring other fires
in more violent eyes
I want an item
to keep me company
something not seen by you
from what remains
perhaps only margins
are yet unsearched
thus wandering through
abandoned works
I find a tiny bump
upon the surface
then scrape until
my hungry fingers show
a solitary full stop.


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