Sunday, February 07, 2010

The Excavator

Instead of clinging onto your arm,
I write this.
because i am not the same
as before.
No,
i have gone through
some motions,
done some digging
and sifting.
The Excavator's door is locked.
Instead of a cup of tea,
i offer you nothing.
"I'm tired, mister…
please
go away."
Instead of wanting more,
I write this.