Zywa Black sun

The black sun in me cries
the you of before and now wet
from love and breathlessness

Another day
to start again
how can I possibly bear that?

Another night
the doom, the hushed up verdict
the black sun around me

sucking me out and making me
flap in the wind to have me
flown away empty

Failed after all, and
still the whisper at home
the sweet words everywhere

Poem 838
Amsterdam, 2016-11-21

At the death of Gert-Jan Schuller
Collection: Pending rain 
Keyword: Missing:  
Dedicated to: Ellen H 
Zywa
Home5-7-5
PencilPumiceRainLoves
CompressedBirdsIflessPhoto
Attention is like sunshineMention © Zywa when using texts,
drawings, designs, paintings and photos
Search word:  CTRL-F