The crawlspace behind my heart echoes
each moan I make for you.
tested, by the force of the tempest…
I walk slowly to myself,
through a forest of empty suits of armour.
– Tomas Tranströmer –
her wonders…
I watch the sun rise:
I wonder how you will feel.
I wonder what you will think.
I wonder if anything will remind you of me… what might mirror back to you.
I watch the moon rise:
I wonder if you will have the courage to tell me.
