A gorse in bloom

I’m a fast learner
but when it comes to human language
I fail.

I do know all the words by heart – the theory
and I cling to my own reasons
like an everlasting, odd perfume

but when I stealthy fade away
and my smell vanishes
and blends into past nights and fever drops

how much is left for us to share ?
How many beggars at the gates, pleading for mercy,
drinking themselves to sleep ?

What could I say ? To change my mind
- yours is spotless, I believe –
one should bid farewell to oh so many burdens.

The only problem left is this evening hour
when I come back to where I belong

-which was never by your side.

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