Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2017
Benches as gravity
is to orbits, the only ones
left holding everything

Modern day Copernicus
assigned her to be his
center of attraction
as if revolving around,
in circles repeatedly,
would make the clusters
of shimmering stars
of letters trapped in his mind
burst (being *****,
for he can only say much
when he’s too broken
to remember).

That moment could only
scam people who threw
pennies into fountains,
fail charms acquired
from temples of whatever
belief it teaches, and

stop lungs. Yes, breathing is
just another superstition —
he doesn’t need it to feel
alive, more so when
there’s someone beside him
who’s able to breathe him in.

That in silence, he pleads
his eyes to speak
his heart, but

conversations don’t work that way
with disobedient bodies.
without words.
Written by
tarma-de  Philippines
   ---, SS Cheft, Jim Musics and Isabelle
Please log in to view and add comments on poems