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He held her fast as if to
hold her together.
Held her because to let
her go would mean to see
her shatter across the carpet.
And though he knew her heart
was crumbling not for him,
but for another, he held
her anyway- and tighter still-
for fear of losing her
to herself.

Yes, he held her and did not
set her down, and the shards
of her soul trembled loosely,
both in gratitude and in guilt
born of selfishness, that
someone would not let her go,
would hold her together until
the pieces of her being grew
slowly back to where they
were- or close to it.

Cichy Noc

As I look upon this country fair,
I recline on my window chair,
Legs flung along the armrest
I think of love and all the rest.

Winter’s turned my vision white,
A solemn freeze on a quiet night.
Sleep tonight won’t easily come,
My thoughts flying, on the run.

Legs flung along the armrest
I think of life, chill in my chest.
And I recline on my window chair,
Looking upon this country fair.

Czas i Miłość

Time is not, as it once was, my dearest friend.
It passes like a ship in the darkest night,
missing my notice, drawing me towards my end.
Could I but trap time and tuck it out of sight…

Love is not, as it once was, my closest confident.
With age it has learned to deceive and trick me.
Love, in all its wily ways, has left me but in want.
Love’s recklessness scalds the eyes so I can’t see.

The two sit upon my heavy heart laughing at their game.
Like crooks and thieves they steal the minutes and the day.
As time nabs the seconds and love the soul, nothing is the same.
So walk straight on, ignore the pair, and try not to lose your way.

Love and time together have inspired the highest forms of art.
But these two have only shown to me the blackness of the human heart.


Time slipped from away from me
like a sieve. Time I wanted to
cling to for as long as I could.
Borrowed time. A moment I got to
have, but it did not belong to me.
This time was another’s, and

I was a momentary houseguest.

So quick the minutes passed, and
then the hours. How I longed to
hold each second, examine it,
hold it up to the light to watch
it glitter and glisten for all
the happiness it contained.

Now the moments are long gone,
and unlikely to come again.
I want to cling to the memory
as I would have clung to the
event. So fearful that the memory
will fade, as all memories do-

Vanishing into the air like a smoke cloud.