There wasn't much of me left
when you came through the door
all the pieces
scattered in some distant place
a forest
where the trees are still
the cold rain falls endlessly
in a steady,
n u m b i n g rhythm
Night-blooming
jasmine
dimly lit by moonlight,
white petals
F a l l i n g
calling out to you
in a d r i f t i n g melody
barely there
Yet, your weary hand
still reaches for me
And stay,
holding me as I c r u m b l e
into your collapsing bones
Dust
To
Dust
Through all eternity
About the Creator
Michele Nampalli
This space is breath for my sensitivity. The poems come fully formed. I've known for quite some time now that my art is about receiving more than creation...its the most natural way I know to process my inner world. It started when I was 7.
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More stories from Michele Nampalli and writers in Poets and other communities.
Center Stage with Gina C.
*** I'm keen to republish the interviews I did for my series with Vocal creators. It's been a few years and I thought it might be nice to revisit these wonderful conversations. I'll be releasing them one at a time for a few weeks/months.
By Heather Hubler5 days ago in Interview
Comments (2)
Beautiful
As always, you masterfully evoked such intense emotion with your vivid imagery. Beautifully written.