Calling

She calls the room
The room is empty
He hears but don’t answer

She calls from a distance
A tattoo appears on his body
Her face, he can’t remember

She calls
The coins run out
The tone stops, his heart

She calls the room
The room is empty and dark
A tome closed in a tomb.

He leaves.

May 1, 2018

Advertisements

About alaindesade

Novelist, songwriter and philosopher. Has special interest in human relations, evolution of mind, inter-cultural complications, and the concept of God.
This entry was posted in Between here and the virtual, Love Poems, Philosophy of Love, poem, poetry, psychology, reflections and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s