same old stumbling blocks
i think i trip myself
i repeat the same old mantras
and prove wrong all optimism
where once the promise of the gods
lodged, sheltered from the wind
now is only empty, yet i watch
everyday, anxious, from the
big window, hoping, waiting.
handfuls of sand, mouthfuls of dust
bitter, bitter, bitter fruits.
a kiss brings blood, blood brings
fear, fear brings sleepless dry
nights interrupted by pain.