Poem 17

You don’t seem to have foundthe place that I place us down.When I rest I tend to mendthe broken heart and tearing

drowns my cries how I do dareand try like I were now. But, whenI am not to desire, I cannot butdecide to have more of what is

not but a part of ours. Moreto me, more to how much thatwanting to bridge but failingas falling into my body again.

I can, I can’t that’s what theair escaping my mouth mouthsas I slowly lose my breath Ifind that the similar are thought

as the life of mine lost to what Ihave done now. I did, didn’t try,but found that when I broke whenI first downed then as you asked

the crash and sudden jolt aroundcrossed your walls and boundsso what result will you describewhen you choose my out. If I

brought hope to you in firstsetting the depth which I wouldset out could you then pick wholeor who ends up the one to go

down and be the found. Youthought that was all aboutwhether you or I at last tellthe time we both did find

ourselves come there, andback to how when we hadventured to that place andbrought the same but did

I had start, and placed down.As I was tired and deprivedby when, as I told so eitherI first died or laid me down.