There are gaps in the road where the grass verge withers,
and gaps in the teeth where the red gums shiver;
gaps in the heart where the blood flows blue,
gaps between people and places.
If you could look intimacy in the face,
feel closeness, tesilation,
shapes. colours merging together.
Pieces of a jigsaw sliding smoothly,
you'd illiminate the gaps; you'd save space.
The grass verge crumbled and the people turned away,
gums rotted, blood froze.
Author notes
What happens when the things wich make up gaps break down?
Adding your comment: