The Vigil
By Tim Pozzi •
Capsize the tide
is rolling in again.
Pieces that fragment the view,
a colour then a shade
of you,
putting all this replica
of frustration
into our hands.
Devoid and annoy me
of any decency,
oh, if only you knew...
if only we could choose
our circumstance (but we cant--)
This flashback to
forward memory will
sustain us in hate.
Portraits and pictures
with meaning obscured,
cause our words can't explain.