Flowers paused

It seems a heart can grow smaller, it can;
it cannot contain the love of past days...
But then again, through the darkness of the vortex
the emerging blades of pure light are so
painful.
Tearing the flesh, tearing so smooth,
so deep.

There is blood among the flowers…

It seems a heart can grow bigger, it can;
so vast that the loves of past days are
nothing but blinking dots…
Keeping the rhythm for the journey ahead; the endless one.
But then again, eyes are slipping,
swirling, into a bottomless pit
made of wishful thinking.

There are bones among the flowers…

Desire burning the hem of the eternal female,
though she graved them onto stone she hid them mostly,
keeping dead silence through a speech
on what things the future needs;
none ever knew for sure
the value of noise
always by choice.

There are flowers…

Underneath the crust of rust
there are roots longing to explode
-a blast of dust and dead trust-
spreading the petals of the precious
hidden flowers
among the deserted towers.

21/10/05