Poetry

Let it go, do not touch it.
You had been negating the bare truth.
I was part of you
once at the shore of tragedy.
Life was treacherous
and I was free to laugh.

Come September and I will be chasing
the fireflies again.

How time takes revenge
from the innocent commitments?
You start returning to your roots
and I was still surfeiting
on the secret fidelity.

Where was the need to be tied down
to god? Nobody was honest to forsake
the fear of nameless nemesis.

The myth of rock still haunts.
Water still boils under the clay.
Petals fly in dark alleys
and I cannot find the door.