Midday
Flood
The NaPoMo prompt: take a declarative poem and state the opposite. This is the opposite day poem for Rumi's Bonfire at Midnight (translation: Barks).
Absolute
silence from my room,
which
I've been avoiding all day.
After
all my numbness and unpredictability, you've chosen
to
live alone.
You
don't want me to.
You
take away my food, break me,
remember
everything I forgot to say.
A
match head shivers in the cold
of the
icy daylight silence
the
frozen thought, again:
Why
aren't all human armies folding shut with this feeling?
It's
an amputation, a hand cupped over the instrument
of the
mouth, it's a puddle in a crook on a mountainside,
skipping
out on our first date like this.
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