While I stay here waiting for you
my mind becomes a mosaic of your memories.

Days pass me by without leaving their footprints,
Cities morph into cemeteries of iron and stone.

Nights lay incomplete like abandoned clay,
The wind is stale and stiff like neglected bread,
And when people talk, I hear the sound of pebbles.

Your scent perforates this room; your touch caresses the walls.
This place is entangled with your kisses,
and shaped by the contours of your shoulders.
Sometimes I pick a fragment of time lying here,
And find it enveloped by your laughter.

Without you, I have the freedom of an island,
And the vastness of a black hole.

This entry was posted in poetry.

3 comments on “Hollow

  1. murisopsis says:

    Very aptly titled. I love the line “Cities morph into cemeteries of iron and stone”

  2. ZSA_MD says:

    Malcolm, this was breathtakingly beautiful. What amazing imagery with the beauty of your words.

  3. Max_Taurean says:

    @murisopsis – Thank you. I love that line too. It’s inspired by the time I was in Helsinki, and on some days the streets were starkly empty.@ZSA_MD – As always, you are generous with your appreciation. Thanks for the mini 

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