Emptiness

Emptiness


I have nothing to write about.

The grapes, peaches aren’t ripe yet.
The snow has melted. Tears rattle.
The same lilac varnish on your hand.
Lake pulls me as it pulls the ripe apple.

I have nothing to write about.

Your kiss has melted off. My lips have cooled.
Queue of peasants- like a train with blind men.
Versace smells empty on me. Je t’aime mon amour.
Thoughts fear empty smells. Get me a pen.