Jean de Oliveira

28Jan10

I sailed like a swan. I sank like a rock. But time is long gone. Past my laughing stock. My page was too white. My ink was too thin. The day wouldn’t write. What the night penciled in. My animal howls. My angel’s upset. But I’m not allowed. A trace of regret. For someone will use. What I couldn’t be. My heart will be ...hers. Impersonally. She’ll step on the path. She’ll see what I mean.