Silently, we sit
in a circle, reading
our letters. And they
my classmates, my
temporary family, absorb words
I will never see, and
shake quietly, weeping. You
sent me a letter, too
and you tell me you love me,
underlined twice and adorned
with an exclamation point. You
tell me you love me, and
stand tall, seemingly
above me, not seeing
how I have grown long ago
out of your shadow. You
say you love me, and this
is a gunshot, but I
have put a silencer
in your rifle. In order to cry
you still have to care.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 4:04 AM UTC
Silently, we sit
in a circle, reading
our letters. And they
my classmates, my
temporary family, absorb words
I will never see, and
shake quietly, weeping. You
sent me a letter, too
and you tell me you love me,
underlined twice and adorned
with an exclamation point. You
tell me you love me, and
stand tall, seemingly
above me, not seeing
how I have grown long ago
out of your shadow. You
say you love me, and this
is a gunshot, but I
have put a silencer
in your rifle. In order to cry
you still have to care.
LAHG
Zbylitowska Góra, Poland
Friday, March 21, 2014
11:30 AM
From my collection, Poems from Poland
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