We all have an expiry date

There are too many broken finger nails
Scattered on the floor,
Underneath my head.
Lead to collect empty memories,
It left my mind feeling crippled, a wingless butterfly
Trapped in a colorful glass bottle
I keep craving your touch,
So I'll carve your name in half a dozen electric wires
Wishing to meet again with the sound of your eyes.

Turn the wheel, tenderly,
Cross the street, endlessly,
Here is my finger, here are your lips,
Pressed against my throat.
Another door opens at the back of my brain.

I can see decomposing words nailed on your left shoulder
Hanging by a string of stars,
Like so many kisses were before them.
Will you still dream SOS in patterns
When I switch this stirring light?
I can exist nowhere,except in my own head,
So please anchor me with you.
We all have an expiry date,
And my spirit will lay frozen until then.

Even the paper cuts, tenderly,
Even the sunlight bursts, endlessly,
Here is your finger, here are my lips,
Searching for your throat,
Sratching another identical asymetry.



September 2011