Finding Others
Finding Others
1 min
13.9K
I was to find others,
My charred remains
Were to finance
Charcoal murals.
I tried to unbecome,
But was lonely winds,
Angry razors storming
Surprised monks.
And then I was daffodils,
Waiting cogent poets,
That my sea finds home,
In gentler hearts.
For all the fury of
One overflowing heart,
My hands are still hers:
I have touched nothing.