honesty?
honesty.
— i want you
to know
that i deal
myself a new hand
from a deck
with some cards
— missing. you
don't see them
but i call them
— yours.
stare at
fate,
face
— tired of asking
where they went.
if there was a thief,
if there was another me,
— my love,
love lost.
but mostly
— i ask again
so we don't have
to play
with my incomplete
— ...
— every time?
— every time.
A carefully crafted poem. It's a touching depiction of another human anguish, or rather a search that runs through life. If we are patient with life that incompleteness will be filled in a srange fashion as usual of God's play.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful Utsa. Keep writing
Joyson C. J