So many halves
want to be filled; so many universes
are silently incomplete.
Love,
I'm completely half; maybe less.
And yet, the invisible hemisphere
rises in me, like a morning drenched
in cloud musk,
writes inside my syllables.
Even my dreams
tell the black crescent of the moon their secret;
that they are not my own.
Only, I can never speak
of this inadequacy,
with my lips, that refuse to believe
that they are two parts of the same whole,
and not halves,
waiting completion; nor you, my love.
But I remember,
but I remember.
A contest entry
- love... by PrabhuDayal Khattar.
300 points, ended May 20, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
what a wonderful immagery and the flow itself..I love this piece.;.and my thanks for sharing this piece to me..well done....
-
Well, for my personal taste it's a little...corny? But that is -me-, not you. haha
As a poem, this is very well written. You had some very nice images & lots of emotion evident.
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