The man is locked away in a diary

Written by me

For this standard words

Can only be unlocked

By your sharp looks

Through that curls of hair

Smelling raspberry and olive

Scattered by a breeze

And my breath

Epitaph

Another rain from another time

There are no universes with a roof
You drank from the moon I have buried
For the dreams in it, poisonous
You are addicted now, for
You have nothing to say about me
But at my expense you made lot of jocks
The rain is hilarious as it pours in another time

There is nothing to hide now
The leaf is as green as it can ever be
The forest is as dark as it can ever be
But still I walk in my sleep to a poem
I have never written, for
You will understand them if I recite
But, no, I won’t, because I can’t break
My image of toughness or arrogance

There, dear, is my grave. Come, read the epitaph
Life is what made me and broke me
Life is what given me a grave this beautiful
And I am thankful to you both.







.