With our left hand we weigh
The sadness
With our right hand we weigh
The happiness
And in the quartz
Impure rivers of colour cease
To flow
While the sun and moon
Run without anchors
Through day into night
Night becomes a witness
Dreams follow dreams
Kisses become blurs.
As light absconds
From the knife edge of time
While our plaintive cries
Become the hard bread
That plays unbroken
Between our teeth.
.
Malcolm Paul
.