la poussière, les cendres
January 18, 2019what was lost is now being retrieved
from the folds of the heavy stage curtain -
in dreams and in sand storms everything is possible;
we all have ghosts - they cling to us like shadows
under the black winter sun.
the body suffers whatever hell the mind spins -
it often burns to ashes.
don’t blame us, mother night:
we’re only trying to stay in the limelight
and do our best to not forget our lines -
this is how we resist becoming dust.