Vena Cava

I don’t believe in anything,
but I believe in this:
in slender arms appearing through a closed door
grey shadows
bearing knowledge of something I just seem to have grazed,
turning my sight from the out
to the inner
to the out
and the inner again.

no beauty matches this.
not even that of symphonies brimming with eternal laughter
or fields– cut in two perfect mirroring stanzas,
not even the red of the Blood Moon I couldn’t see,
or the pure joy found only in insanity…
but it exists, this, it is,
and windows lose their purpose,
patterns no longer follow their predestined directions
and no prophecy waits be fulfilled.

and, 
if it leaves
(please)
when leaving
I hope the door will be left as it is;
I want for it to remain closed.

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One thought on “Vena Cava

  1. Oh my, this is really an amazing poem, darling. I am moved by this, the flow of emotion is overwhelming. Thank you for letting me take a peek at your heart’s stasis. Good job!

    Hey, I am Ragazza, please don’t hesitate to visit my blog page, I would love to connect with you. Cheers.

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