In the End
In the End
How essential it is
to go back to dust,
ashes & be forgotten
by springtime.
When longing for rhyme
& gathering wild cotton
& understanding that lust
& love are no longer what is,
for such is tucked away.
Staying is not an option.
No longer to inhabit the earth,
but kept from wishing, from desire.
In the end things expire,
no more touching, no more worth
in a woman pressed to man. Only absorption
night & day…
2 thoughts on "In the End"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
How complete! Great writing.
This poem breaks my heart with thoughtful greatness. Thank you.