Morning by days not less or late
Her heart flutters and fail’d to breath,
I tossed her arms up and down,
Her arms dare to stay and it drop’d in haste.
Her lips was wide, curve while her face bows to fade
Like a virgin baby breeze in; a time too late,
I stay’d silent for her to wake,
As the clock ticks she still sleeps nor move an inch.
Strange to know nothing or never to be sure,
Should i run or stay?—thoughts of jail or bail,
My heart flutters the same as her; only that–
I can breathe or move more than one way than her.
Now i know that she stinks, now i know that she’s an–
Addict, now i know she’s early like a wet river’s mud,
Now i know! i care for a flesh to be buried in a dark hole
With a loud big stomp.
What shall i do?.
Soon enough or late for sure, will the truth reveal,
Soon enough will the hen sleep by day and dine by
Night, soon enough will her enemy witch—hunt for her—
But when will that soon be enough.
I peeped through the roof of my house, the day creeps–
To knock for the moon to come out and announce,
With the cloud sketching the horror, the rain sprinkle
The sand nor allow me to mourn.
Suddenly her arm moved for breath and silent face
Arose, 'my flutter heart lull at once and breath at ease,
She woke from a long deep sleep and carefully stroll—
To the door and never looked back again.
That is my death threat gone, this is a new life begun and
That is a worry adjourned.