Monday, April 12, 2010

burning pages

The way you looked at burning pages reminded me of silver lights with the bulbs burnt out. Mother always said books were never meant for burning, but you were never one to listen, were you?

Page ash smells like the stories they used to tell, in a crumbled, broken kind of way. Like ocean mist and sand mixed with ash, flowers mixed with ash, the hollow of a voiceless scream - and ash.

Words were never meant to be lost.


The PostMan said...

Lovley piece... people like you inspire people like me to start sharing personal thoughts, feelings and emotions :)

YourOasis said...

yes i too have been inspired by you to write my own poetry again. i already have it in my mind in fact. love this. the idea of burning books horrifies me.