Poetry Is Like Water

Poetry is like water, colourless, it
leaves no space, no edges to touch
after the most recent pain has left, just left
me alone, just left me to think, of how common,
how dull, how alone my pain was.

Poetry is so dull, so listless, so deaf
to the hours I have, alone with words and
fathomless with memory, leaving no space, no edges to touch
after the most recent pain has come and left, just left
me alone, too thoughtless to complain,
a carbon paper sky.

Poetry has no speech even when it rises
like fever, like love, when it recedes
like fever, like love, leaving no space, no edges to touch
after the most recent pain has left, just left
me alone, amongst words too dull
to climb from the pages.