15th September 2009

A little too tired to feel cut about anything,
I admire the view of Prague instead,
Feeling my heart beat slowly in a stable arrhythmia,
In recollection of a thousand broken souls in alexithymia.

A candid recollection,
Intuition the new fear that resides beneath my feet,
Beyond the darkness and the uncertainty that
Hold my hand in subtle disarrays of sunshine.

Familiar yellow, stone cold,
Passed through my feeble fingers,
As I gave a solemn word of thanks.
Feeling slightly pleased that I remember things I should,
And holding within me the captures of familiar faces,
I feel it coming back as I move along.
I watch the spherish circle in the city have the
Stars move around them like a flippant constellation.

My head droops down;
All I recall is the negative silences of that argument,
But leaving my tasks for later I prefer to
Rush through almost anything I have to do.
A sharp form of speech, form of word,
Desentisises my mind,
A form of memory, returning, shuts my knowledge blind.

As I sit here, sleep preceding,
I do nothing but recall, in slight relief my legs can rest,
Can hold me down, my flimsy back,
Sitting, resting my head
Upon an invisible shoulder.