Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Boundaries

The sleep is my friend
dreams are those boundaries
that marked my wounds
accepting those unwelcomed guests
bent into nightmares.

The memory
is slumbing with me,
with its bitter sharpness,
there,
where your whispers are the sweetest curse
and the greatest gift.
There,
where my soul took this sweetest death
along with the bond.

© Diana Mistera 2009


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