The Hand Of Disappearing
Every Time he puts his hand
Every Time he puts his hand
On a spot of shadow
Shadow leaps
And dress it a glove.
Which way do you prefer her:
To be with you
Thinking of someone else
or to be
with someone else
thinking of you?
like a sleeping human
Dreaming that he is
sleeping beast dreaming that he is
sleeping human.
He doesn’t write
About her
on paper
he throws himself
on her
paper after paper.
You would love me the most:
when you lift up your hand
off me
off me
I disappear.
Your hand
is the hand
of disappearing.
___________________________2/7/1995
Monzer Masri
Born, lived, wrote, loved..and so near to death! been in a very few places.. Kavala, Diar baker, Lodeve...Paris.. and Londen latly... to read poetry.. My favorite place is Beirut..
4 comments:
A lovely piece of poetry. You find, or just know of, some of the most truly interesting people.
bella poesia,buona serata.
Oi,
Belíssimo e interessante espaço de arte e literatura.
Gostei!
Beijos,
Cris
Lovely write :) Keep them coming.
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