Friday, April 23, 2010

In Love In Deep
for D.B.A.

what is this that I am passing through
that is passing through me

will it last until I have passed it out
until it has passed me out

or until I pass out
or will it last until I’ve passed away

what she wrote recently
about finding herself
and finding that she had lost herself

I make a different twist of
when I’m without her
I am as if nonexistent

without her I do not care to exist
without her it is nonexistence

so tasteless, so bland
not a brand of day or night
I’d order

what is time without her in it
or her without thyme
and tiny limes


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
12:55 p.m. 23.04.10

1 Comments:

Anonymous D.A. said...

I think I would have liked an elaboration of the last two stanzas. When first reading this poem I thought I knew what it was going to be about but by the end my response became what it is now.

I will say though that as usual your last two or three stanzas are well seasoned. How I would like those words to pass through me, into my cells, "and get all the good stuff out".

Saturday, April 24, 2010 9:50:00 AM  

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