Thirst

My throat dried the years,

the years with the water..

And now I see  the days who wound themselves with the drought and the pain..

My body,

gasping for the cool fluidity,

my hands are parted from the purification..

My broken lips,

initiation of this dry world..

My throat cracks itself again,

thinking of the forgotten flood of the pure water.

Waiting for a taste of thousand lips,

hands, and thousand bodies,

swirling in the silence,

just like the names we cry for help,

–they shatter in the rest..

I pray for a purification of the water,

thirst quencher in our hearts again…

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s