hidden history of broken

Vintage-Miniature-Doll-House-Dollhouse-Baby-Grand-Piano-_1

under is never,
torture is hidden. my
mind’s a forgiveness;
my heart won’t repent.

he loved you in silence,
yet told you his heart, it
was empty, a summer park
in baltimore,
i’ve never been there.

a summer lawn in
some bourgeois money place…
a big shadow in
a dark night, it radiates. i’m
peeking in at
the happy family,
it’s always xmas, father and son.

i dream of a summer place,
of scented trees and babies…
happy dreams!
a mossy pond,
a cemetar of ancient friends,
and, there we’ll talk…
the silence off some lazy
pines hiding our vanities, and
you will tell me how to
not be me.

i play a melody,
rachmaninov to your
vaste sympathy:
the clean smooth water that’s
my only his touch;
the icy cold of your
careful loathing.

 

 

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