Posterous theme by Cory Watilo

Poet

She’s gone so far from my life 
where my intelligence fails to

recognize any familiarity of
senseful thought, my soul 

suffocates from its
disconnectedness and heart-

break to a point of dyslexia-
mania, her missing is my 

margin of blockade and
standoff, a point where no 

pen can write past, and no
view can look further, 

my language misses her,
and has gone to find its  

“she”, my “her”, leaving
us in a world of 

barrenness and dumb.