Monday, March 22, 2010

shell

a shell of a thought
tantalizingly polished
glowing
out of reach.
a shell of a moon,
washed by the seas of time,
someone once said.
and striving to love
in the old high way of love,
he said too.
a shell of a love
worn
by trying.
a fragment of a feeling
lying in a corner
exhausted,
incomplete
without someone
a fragmented world
broken
because someone was missing
and the hope
that he will will make it whole
is all that keeps the shell floating
moon bobbing
heart beating.
but hope,
sometimes,
wants to be forgotten too.
and hope,
scared of drowning,
leaves the fragments incomplete.

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