Day 15 of 30 Poems/30 Days

‘She says:’

“Bury me in the arms of my enemy.”

Time is a sleek destroyer,
a cunning coward.

Its scent fills my lungs,
anchors my thoughts.

My hands racing,
like five fingers searching,
like ten men hunting.

I finally find her,
the girl in the woman,
the woman in the girl.

As she fades away she pleads:
‘bury me in the arms of my enemy’
that singing thing,
my lullaby king.

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