“I can’t remember when” by Boguslaw Kierc

I can’t remember when
the end started
after such a promisingly
stated declaration
of love after the first
sleepless night without space
and time now is not
for a dream like gold and not
even for gold-plated
use syllables to swear to the changed colors
in our voices
we’d already had enough of
love a sensitive ear would hear rusting
nightingales in cultivated rose
beds ever more
bloody we search from memory we drain
our blood from blood we tear
bone from bone

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