Poetry

Your window
was very small.
Why did not you throw the dice?
Walk away
without a want?

I had no courage
to tell the lies,
to hold the secrets
of brave tears,
which failed to live in red-bricked house.

And a naked womb
protecting the fetus
from scars and curtains,
will find a anointed bed to sleep for eternity,
for delivering, a new star.

An anode will discharge
on a galactic light,
a message of the hungry
birds of prey.
Death wants its share of flesh.