on queue…

eyes glazed
no tears
can break free
of the pain within
coursing its way
from the heart
into every pore
and fiber
that time
has given
and now
takes away
with such
that one
would suppose
that life had just begun
not reached its end
winding down
like a broken toy
cast aside
long ago
on society’s
side streets
of existence
forced to wait
in line
for eternal

when you get a chance…

you might take
the time to see
there’s a hole
in the fiber
of your life
the cloth
has worn thin
and who
you really are
is showing
i can see
you’ve patched it
several times
but now
there’s little left

kairouan carpet factory…

each fiber
is from a different country
cast upon the same loom
creating a single pattern of life
to be shared upon a lover’s bed
as if there were no differences
between their inner fabrics
as if love
could be the thread
of life


(To  Jade)