Myth Comments

I was asleep while you were dying. I make between my slumber and my waking. It's as if you slipped through some rift, a hollow. a very fine poem. tony

ou'll be dead again tomorrow, but in dreams you live. So I try taking you back into morning. Sleep-heavy, turning, my eyes open, I find you do not follow. very original way of presentation. tony

Heartrending. It is the poet's calling to put down in words the sounds our hearts make as they are breaking, the odd things that our eyes see or wish to see again, the skin we will never feel again- -so that we never forget what it is to be brokenly human.