By Madison  [madi@yada-yada.com]
Date: 2 September 1999

"Take Care"

I cannot write the words, not yet.
They slur, they drench the page
and fall into the air like 
tears that drop and desiccate.
Cramped against their own regret, 
they stumble down into the nothing left behind.

Where are they now,
Impossible Utopian reels of words worn 
and exchanged without receipt,
that brought us to this unsilent room.
We watched behind the glass
in a chamber where forever was unborn.

Arms extended outward as I lie 
prone in a dead man’s float
I listen to the sounds above the
water line, numb as you speak
numb as you mutter 
Take Care.

They mar, they blur.
Fragments of mottled chalky white.
They stain and cripple the soul.
Take Care.  Kind sentiments that curl the pallid paint 
of time and peel it back
to words I cannot find, to pain I cannot write.






M Madison
16 aug 99
copyright © 1999