Saturday, February 2, 2008

Day 1 from Natasha


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.

- natasha

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