Monday, December 20, 2010

Old photographs and poetry

Old photographs and poetry...


you still have a hold in my life.
I tear down the images
your face imprints into my mind.
I hide the glass that keeps you constant.
I cannot move one with your perpetual gaze.
If only I could hide the memories...


I heard your words, read on yellowed paper. 
I feel the warmth on my face though its meaning has changed.
I burn the language you invented for us. 
The love and wit crackle with each flame
I cannot move on with your ancient tongue. 

If only I could set fire to the memories.... 

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