Weeping

Listen

the words don't need my perplexity anymore

and it is hard for me to admit my incredulity.

yesterday i said i couldn't

and you replied "ok"

as if you could see beyond

my dead inspirational grammar and hopeless muse:

she - the one who aborted me

after a couple of unformed poems

and silent plosives.

yes, she wants images, not words.

i am covered with distrust and sorrow

but look at me,

i can only ask for a handkerchief.

karla bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2015