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WHEN THE SKY FORGETS ITS SCRIPT

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The sky has forgotten its scripted lines 
It has lost its knowledge of crying 
So it has remained dry 
Caked like the dry red earth 
Void of moisture 

We are parallel lines 
Legs stretched worlds apart 
From your cup, I no longer drink 
Your familiar cheeks I don’t kiss 

A sharp dagger slug behind; just around my waistline 
Who drew the battle lines?
Who pulls out his own intestines?
This is insanity 

The heart has lost its form 
It is a replica of my father’s rumpled trousers
A shame to the eye 
A sore to the soul 
Why did this turn out so?

A body in a rift with its soul 
Its all I see when I stare 
I am the body 
You are the soul 
I feel nothing anymore 
I am bewildered! Is this the seed mortals sow?


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